


The Legend of the Epics

by Ketz



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Although this is very much a malec story, Clary's POV, F/F, F/M, I'm trying something new so y'all be nice, M/M, The Reckoners AU, This is very much based on Brandon Sanderson's The Reckoners Trilogy, anyway, but also isn't, it's weird - Freeform, minor pairings: Jaia and possibly Clizzy, supervillains and assassins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-08-19 04:25:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 38,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16527311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ketz/pseuds/Ketz
Summary: When regular men and women started to suddenly develop extraordinary powers, humanity struggled to keep up. The powers allowed these creatures to do as they pleased, to answer to no one. They allowed them to be Epic, yes, but also inhumanely cruel. And, so, nobody dared to fight back.Nobody with the exception of one group: the Reckoners. A group that has gone beyond dedicating their lives to fight for humanity; they specialize in assassinating Epics. Whenever the Reckoners attack, an Epic dies. And that is the group Clary wants in, for they are the only people that can help her accomplish the one thing she wants to do: kill the Angel.Only, things are more complicated than Clary could have ever anticipated. In the midst of Epics and assassins, she’ll realize not everything is so black and white. Sometimes, the love between two people can shine brighter than the hatred of many. It can be bigger than revenge, than fear, than indifference.For love is the most powerful force of all.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys!
> 
> I know it's been a while since I posted a proper story. Well, this one is a little different from what I usually write. I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless.

**Summer, 2010**

The sound of the house alarm yanked Alec out of his sleep like a punch in the stomach. He gasped for air, eyes shot open only to find the darkness of the bedroom. Somewhere to Alec’s left, Jace jumped out of his bed too. 

“Alec, we have to move!” His brother hissed. “Grab your stuff.”

There were yells and shots coming from outside of the mansion. Alec couldn’t quite place the voices, but there was at least a dozen. All the security team that his parents had hired to patrol the property. A lot of ancient houses were being attacked after The Angel passed a law that said Epics could claim whatever they could take and the Lightwood mansion was too big a prize to be left alone.

A dozen of armed and trained men wouldn’t be needed if it was just a few regular burglars. No. It had to be something else, something far more dangerous. An Epic.

Alec gritted his teeth and moved. He found the already packed bag under his bed and grabbed his phone on the table, pulling the charger with it. Alec grabbed his shoes and shoved them on his feet. He looked at Jace and they moved to the door and waited for the sign that the hallway was clear.

Ever since their parents had hired the new security, Alec and his siblings had been instructed to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. That meant having a bag packed and sleeping fully clothed. They had made simulations of an Epic attack, so, rationally, Alec knew that the night would come. 

Only now that he looked at his bedroom, still dim as not to draw attention from outsiders, Alec realized what this really meant. They would leave the house that night and maybe never come back. The chances of a common person against an Epic were slim. Nobody had ever been able to kill an Epic in the ten years since the first ones appeared. The security service would only hold them off long enough for the clients to flee.

That was probably the last time Alec would see his bedroom. For sixteen years, that place had been Alec’s own piece of heaven on Earth. It was there that Alec could be completely himself, unafraid of the world’s judgment. It was there that Jace or Izzy or baby Max would sometimes spend the night, where nightmares didn’t matter. That was Alec’s place, the only one that he truly owned. 

And now he had to leave it behind or die in the hands of a monster trying to protect it.

Three knocks on the door and Jace opened it to find Isabelle on the other side. She was wearing a much too large jacket and her hair was a mess, but Alec had never been happier to see her. He hugged his sister tight, feeling her body stop shaking in contact with his. “You ok, Iz?”

“Y-yes.” Isabelle steadied herself and looked at Jace, searching for injuries. She smiled when she found none. “Come on. Mom and dad are fetching Max, he-”

Alec brought a hand to his sister’s mouth and Jace frowned. As soon as Isabelle’s voice was shut down, Alec’s fears were confirmed. All the shouting from outside was gone. There was only silence, a cold silence that wrapped Alec’s heart in a firm grip of apprehension.

The door at the end of the hallway opened. No warnings, no secret knocks. No code the security team had given them.

The Epic smiled when she saw the three teenagers in the corridor. She cocked her to the side and waved at them. Alec barely had time to register her presence, though. All he saw was a white dress smudged in blood before he shoved both Jace and Isabelle into Max’s bedroom.

“She’s here,” Alec barked at his parents, shutting the door behind him.

Maryse and Robert looked up at their oldest child. Isabelle had run to hug their mother while Jace looked ready to fight. Alec almost let that crack a smile on his lips. Of course, Jace wanted to fight the Epic. He was never afraid of anything, even of people with powers and madness enough to kill all of them as an afterthought.

Robert turned his attention back to under the bed. Max’s toys and books were spread on the carpet but there were no signs of a bag ready to go. Alec looked around to search for his baby brother but couldn’t find him either. His heart got stuck on his throat but then Alec realized that Max was hiding under his bed.

Where monsters couldn’t find him.

“Come on, Max,” Robert said, voice shaking. He moved to grab the little boy, but Max shrunk away from his grasp. “We have to leave now, Son.”

A knock on the door and Alec felt his entire body freeze. He only saw the shadow of his father moving again and suddenly Robert had shoved both Alec and Jace near Maryse. Robert himself stood in front of them, facing the door directly as a human shield.

Alec wanted to scream. But, as the door opened, all he could do was hold Jace in place. He felt his brother lean forward but he had no weapons, no protection, no plan. By now, everyone knew better than to fight an Epic empty-handed. A common person would have a better chance of stopping a moving train.

The Epic just stared at them. She was a young woman, probably still in her twenties. She was beautiful too, with milk-white skin and golden curly hair. Her white dress was smudged with blood and she looked at them with a curious expression. “Would you look at that,” she said cheerfully. “The whole family! So sweet.”

Her eyes passed through Alec to Jace and then locked on Isabelle and Maryse. She stared at them intently and then she lifted a hand. 

“You can have the house,” Robert said and Alec was shocked to realize that his father was terrified. But speaking up worked. The Epic turned her attention to him. Robert whimpered, but opened his mouth again. “Y-you can have it all. Just let us go.”

The Epic blinked as if confused. “But of course I can have it all.” She chuckled lightly and her expression grew gentler. “I grew up down a couple of streets from here, you know? Not in a fancy place like this one, though.” She shrugged and then looked around the room. “I always thought this was the most beautiful mansion. So grand, like a palace in a movie.” She grinned, nodding to herself. “And now it’s mine!”

Alec looked at his parents, waiting for their orders. Maryse was holding Isabelle so tight, the skin of her shoulder was white where their mother’s finger dug into it. Max was still under the bed and all Alec could see of him were his big, terrified eyes. _Please, don’t move. Just stay quiet, like in a hide and seek game. Please, Max._

“Yes,” Robert said, sounding uncertain. “It’s yours. Just let us go.”

The Epic blinked again and stared at him again. All the softness in her expression was gone, leaving just anger. “Let you go? But you’re trespassing! This is my property!”

Before Robert could say anything, the Epic moved her hand. Whatever words were coming out of his mouth, were replaced by something else. Robert started coughing, a hand going to his throat. He tried to clear it, coughing sickly. Something dark slipped through his lips and ran down to his chin. 

Blood. First from his mouth and, suddenly, from his ears. Robert turned to his wife, eyes wild and red. There were streams of blood pouring from them too, like red tears he had not been shedding. 

Maryse screamed, pulling Isabelle behind her. She tried to reach for the boys next, but Jace fell on the ground, too horrified to keep standing. Alec himself didn’t know how he was keeping it together. He couldn’t look away, only at his father and the blood pouring out of him from everywhere. It fell around his feet, forming a pool of dark, slick liquid. 

It all felt like an eternity and then Robert’s body dropped to the ground, splashing the blood around the floor. The room went completely quiet.

And then Max cried out from under the bed.

The Epic moved her hand again, pulling Alec and Jace down as they both tried to reach their baby brother. Alec tried to fight her, but his body didn’t respond. It wanted to stay down, rigid on the ground as the monster kneeled and found little Max.

“Aw,” the Epic cooed and stood up again. She moved the fingers in her other hand and Robert’s blood slid to under the bed. Like a dark wave, it carried Max to the center of the room. “A little boy! What an adorable family you all are.”

“No!” Maryse yelled but before she could do anything, the Epic was already pulling the blood out of her too. Again, it started with a fit of coughs and Alec stared in horror as his mother fell to her knees.

Only, this time, something else happened. The air behind the Epic began to move in a circle, first small but then it grew bigger. The circle turned into a cone, air swirling quicker and quicker. The Epic seemed to notice it then and Maryse stopped coughing. Alec felt the control on his body come back and he dashed to Max, grabbing his baby brother.

A man walked out of the circle of air. He was tall, taller than Alec or his father. His black hair was styled in spikes which gave his decorated triangular-shaped eyes a harsher look. He wore a long coat and high boots that stopped at his knees. Another Epic, one that looked much more dangerous than the woman attacking them.

“Who are you?” The woman asked, annoyance all over her voice. “I got here first. This house is mine.”

“No, it isn’t,” the new Epic said calmly. He had an elegance to him that was impossible to miss, even amidst all the fear and chaos. “This house belongs to this family. Leave and I won’t kill you.”

The first Epic laughed and prepared to attack him. But the man was too fast for her. A wave of red energy formed around his hands and he threw it all on her. She was pulled from the ground and propelled out of the room. From where Alec stood, he saw her burst through the wall of the hallway and disappear in the debris.

The man turned around and looked at Alec. His eyes passed over him clinically, moving on to Jace and then Maryse and Isabelle. Finally, his attention turned to Robert’s corpse. The Epic lowered himself and his hands were covered by a flimsy blue light as they searched over Robert’s body. 

Shaking his head, the Epic turned to Maryse. “I cannot save your husband. Take your children and run. She won’t be the last Epic that tries to take this place.”

Maryse nodded and pulled Jace to his feet. She dragged both him and Isabelle out of the room without a word, but Alec had seen the resolve in her eyes. She’d get them to safety and that was all that matters. The worst had passed.

Max whimpered in Alec’s arms when he stood. His little brother was crying and half-covered in blood, but he was alive. The Epic approached and examined Max’s small body with his weird, luminescent hands. For some reason, Alec just let him. It wasn’t the fear he learned to have of Epics. It wasn’t just the powerlessness of knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop the man if he tried. It was something else entirely.

“He’ll be fine,” the man said. His tone was terse and he looked at Alec as if he were personally annoyed at him. “Go, stupid boy. Now!”

“Thank you for saving us,” Alec said. 

For a second, he thought he’d said the wrong thing. The Epic visibly froze, shoulders going stiff under the heavy jacket. He stopped and stared at Alec with a different expression altogether. The harshness in his eyes was gone and it seemed he only then had noticed Alec standing there.

The Epic opened his mouth but changed his mind. He only nodded a thank you and gestured to the door. Alec didn’t wait any longer. He cast a last look at his father’s corpse and rushed out of the room holding Max as tight as he dared. 

Alec didn’t look back, not even when new waves of red energy colored the night sky. 

\---

**Autumn, 2018**

They walked as fast as they dared. In the streets of Brooklyn, running wasn’t an uncommon pace but it usually involved being chased down by the Circle’s Shadowhunters. Although, that wouldn’t draw too much attention either, not in that part of town. Either way, Clary wanted to go unnoticed on that particular night. Even more than usual.

So, she and Simon walked, blending in the crowd. It was about 7 pm, when most workers left their jobs. The streets were full. Good, that would make them less suspicious. 

“You’re sure the Reckoners will attack tonight, right?” Clary asked, disguising the question as a lover’s whisper by taking Simon’s arm in hers. 

Simon chuckled and pulled her closer as a boyfriend would. Two Shadowhunters passed by them, paying them no mind. “It has to be tonight or the window will close.” 

Clary nodded. “They’ll have to move on to another city without a hit. Not their style.” 

“And they have lots of style,” Simon said wistfully. 

Clary chuckled and laced their fingers together. They remained with their arms linked until the Shadowhunters disappeared in the crowd. Public display of affection usually worked to go unnoticed but Clary didn’t like to do it with Simon. They had grown up together, first as neighbors and then in the same house when Elaine Lewis took Clary in. He was her brother, her best friend.

But living in New York meant often doing things one was uncomfortable with. Clary was glad that, in her case, it meant awkwardly touching someone she loved dearly. It could’ve been much worse. She could’ve been one of the girls that got friendly with Epics in order to survive. 

Those poor girls, either taken by those monsters or sacrificed to keep their families fed. A girl from their class at the Academy had gone down that path and Clary couldn’t stop worrying about her. Maureen had been bright and sharp despite all the bad, but now she and her family’s life was decided by the Epic she was forced to sleep with. She was at the mercy of his power, of his lunatic mind. And all because of the Circle. All because of the Epic that called himself the Angel. 

He was the worst of them all, the one that had taken over New York and turned it into his empire. He set the rules and the rules benefited only the Epics. They could steal, hurt, and kill, all unchallenged. The common people could only lower their heads and try to stay away from their paths. 

All Epics were monsters. Clary had learned that when she was just a little girl. And those like the Angel were the worst of all. He was a High Epic: his powers worked in a way that allows him to cheat death; something Simon called a ‘Prime Invincibility.’. But, thankfully, not all Epics had it. Each one had a different skill set and although there were really powerful ones, they weren’t all invincible. They could die. Or rather, they could be killed. That usually happened by the hands of the Reckoners. 

And, if Simon and Clary’s research was correct, that would happen again that night. Clary pressed on. “We have to make it to the theater right away.”

“We’re just a couple blocks away.” Simon tried to smile at her reassuringly, but Clary knew him well enough to see through the bravado. Simon was nervous. Not nervous because he had accidentally knocked something over or because he had eaten all the cake or because he spent all his savings on a hand-me-down guitar instead of groceries. 

If it was any of that, he’d be speaking non-stop. He was gravely nervous. They were going to see the Reckoners, to watch them in action. To ask to be a part of their group. That night would change their entire lives. Clary felt her heart thumping against her chest. She guessed she was nervous too but hadn’t allowed herself to think too much of it. 

Pushing that out of her mind, Clary returned Simon’s broken smile as best as she could. “Right. I just really hate this part of town.”

“Is it the abandoned museums or the creepy art schools full of rotting paint?” Simon shuddered just thinking about it. 

Clary looked around. There were three art schools in that street and many more ateliers. All abandoned. All dead. People outside of Manhattan didn’t have time for celebrating the arts or self-expression. They had to work. “It’s the idea of what this place once represented,” Clary said. “The ghost of possibilities.”

Simon blinked at her. “Sparks, that was deep.” He pointed at a dark store that used to sell art supplies. Most of it had been stolen, but not the huge mannequins at the front. “To me, it’s those things. And how they don’t have faces.”

Snorting, Clary nodded. “Okay. They are super creepy.”

“So creepy.” Simon made a face and Clary would have laughed, but then he frowned. “The show is over.”

Clary followed his gaze and found the only building still working in the neighborhood. It was a theater, old enough to be considered fashionable. From time to time, the rich people from the city would hold events there. Although, it didn’t matter what kind of events. Everyone knew the main attraction was the danger of this part of town. 

For the rich folk and the minor Epics of the Circle’s regime, people like Clary and Simon were entertainment enough. Wild things who survived on scraps and the worst jobs available. Something to see and something to be seen hanging around. 

But Clary didn’t blame them. That was a part of the Angel’s plan. If the rich people saw how the poor lived, they’d be more willing to comply with the Circle’s rules. If the poor people had a glimpse of the rich, they would strive to become that one day. It worked because nobody wanted the alternative. Nobody wanted to fall out of line and be killed on sight. That was life in any city. The world was dominated by Epics and they made the rules. You put your head down and follow. Then, you just might survive. 

But Clary wanted more than just surviving. She wanted revenge. “Come on,” Clary said and pulled Simon to an alley. “We need to find a good place to watch.”

Simon nodded and they started to navigate the parallel streets. All those forgotten schools and museums gave them the perfect hidden spot to witness what was about to happen. The Reckoners would hit the attendees of the night’s show and an Epic would be killed. That sounded more entertaining than anything the theater could offer. 

Especially because of the Epic that was going to die in the next hour or so. Clary and Simon had studied every single member of the Circle’s administration. The Reckoners didn’t go for minor Epics, those at the bottom of the pyramid. They also didn’t go for impossible kills, Epics such as the Angel himself or his Inner Circle. When they struck, they killed those that mattered. Epics that were a part of the government, Epics who have killed hundreds and gone unpunished. Epics that were strong, but killable.

Clary and Simon agreed that, this time, it would be Aldertree. An Epic at a high post in the Circle’s administration, at least seventy deaths could be traced directly to him. He was what Simon called a manipulator: capable of transforming liquids into poison and solids into drugs. Every Epic had their own specific power. He had come to the city just a couple of years ago but his ability to get people hooked or dead had endeared him to the right people at the top. 

“There he is,” Clary said as they settled inside a long building near the theater. It was easy to spot an important Epic exiting the theater as the crowd parted away for him to pass. Aldertree was a beautiful man, dark skin and soft curls carefully framed by a smart suit. He had a pleasant voice with a hint of a British accent. Clary had attended a couple of his public speeches to be able to memorize his face. She had sketched him for the archive she and Simon kept of every Epic in New York.

“Let’s camp here,” Simon decided but then he blinked. “Well, not camp. This is hardly camping. Thank God, because I don’t particularly like it. Too many bugs.”

“Sure thing, City Boy.” Clary took out her phone from her backpack. That wasn’t a simple task, considering how much she had been carrying. Two changes of clothes, her old tablet, the sketchbook and a case filled with charcoal. Two knives and a handgun. Calamity be damned, that was basically everything Clary owned. 

“Sparks,” Simon cursed under his breath. “I think the Reckoners are making a move.”

Clary gasped and put her phone on recording mode, pointing it at Aldertree. It was true: a woman was talking to him. She had straight black hair that stopped just before her shoulders. Her skin was pale, but it had a warmth to it. Big brown eyes that complemented her full red lips beautifully. She was confidence, elegance, and curves all into one. Clary’s fingers itched to draw her. 

Simon huffed beside her. “Is she an Epic? No way she’s human. That’d be so unfair.”

“The Reckoners don’t work with Epics.” Clary shushed him. “Look, she’s leading Aldertree away from the crowd. Classic Reckoner move.”

The Reckoners didn’t kill the common people. The Shadowhunters might get hurt and some even got shot in the crossfire, but the Reckoners always chose to spare the human lives when they could. And that agent was doing exactly that. Clary and Simon rushed to the other side of the building. They arrived in time to see the Reckoner and Aldertree pass by a pool of light in the deserted side street. 

Clary blinked, noticing something. Aldertree had a second ability, the one that elevated him to High Epic status. He was able to become incorporeal; no bullet could harm him. Aldertree usually kept himself translucent, almost like a ghost. It had been a pain to draw him exactly because of that.

However, as he passed by another pool of light, Clary realized Aldertree looked more and more solid. His skin looked healthier and shinier. It was harder to distinguish the Reckoner agent’s figure beside him. Aldertree didn’t seem to notice, though. He was too busy laughing at something the woman said.

They passed by another pool of light and Clary startled. Aldertree was almost casting a full shadow. 

Did the Reckoners know his weakness? Every Epic had one. One object, or emotion, or situation. One thing that, when near the Epic, would negate their powers. Whatever Aldertree’s weakness was, that Reckoner agent must be carrying it with her. The longer she spent with him, the more solid he became. And the more solid he became, the more killable he was too. 

“They’re going to take him down at any second,” Clary whispered to herself, voice shaking with excitement. She looked up, at the other abandoned buildings. It took a few seconds but there it was. The cane of a sniper's rifle. Clary couldn’t see the sniper but the plan was obvious. 

It was as straightforward as plans go. The Reckoners would take Aldertree away from the crowd, get him in contact with his weakness, and shoot him dead. Simple and effective. All they needed to do was wait until Aldertree’s weakness was in full effect. But what was it?

“Hey,” Simon said with a frown, “did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Clary asked, too anxious to look away. 

“This gun clicking.” Simon mimicked it with his tongue. “Didn’t sound like it came from the street.”

Clary was about to tell Simon to quit making the sound, but then she realized she wasn’t doing it anymore. But he was right, the sound didn’t come from the street in front of them. It came from behind them. 

The gun clicked again and a male voice sounded on their backs. “All right. Turn around very slowly, both of you.”

\---

A blonde white guy and a black girl with a full afro were staring down at them. The guy had two handguns, both ready to shoot, while the girl tapped on some kind of machinery. Clary gasped, her hands going straight into the air. Beside her, Simon did what he did best. He started talking. 

“Hoa hoa, we’re not Epics! I swear! We just came to watch!” Simon tried offering them a forced smile. “Are you guys with the Reckoners? That would be so cool. We’re big fans. Like, the hugest fans. One would say we’re, like, Reckonettes.”

“Okay, Reckonette,” the girl said, looking up from her machine. It looked like Clary’s tablet, only it had a scanner attached to it. The girl pointed it to Simon. “I’m going to need you to be quiet now. Voice messes up this system and it could blow us to pieces.”

Simon’s face went milk white and he pressed his lips together as if to physically stop himself. Clary frowned, not quite understanding how that could be a thing. The smirk on the blonde guy’s lips made her highly doubt they were in any danger. Still, she didn’t say a word as the girl pointed the scanner to her as well. 

“They’re clean,” the girl said after a few seconds. “But, to be sure, no speaking for more than three seconds.”

The blonde guy snorted but pulled the guns away from them. He was about to say something when the bud in his ear buzzed. Frowning, he moved to the window behind Clary and Simon, pushing them away as he took a peek outside. “Negative. He’s still slightly translucent. That is a no-go, Alec. Izzy work your magic.”

The Reckoner agent with Aldertree laughed, the sound resonating from both the street and the guy’s ear bug. Clary looked up to where the sniper - presumably, Alec - was. The gun was still out, pointing at the Epic and the woman. They were close, although not touching. Aldertree never touched anyone, as his hand would go through them. The woman - Izzy - seemed to know how to work around that to distract him, though. She smiled and laughed, positioning herself in just the right way. It was mesmerizing.

But was the sniper really just waiting for the weakness to fully work? What if he hit the woman? From that distance, it was an almost impossible shot.

The girl joined them at the window, hand on her ear. “Alpha, we’ve neutralized the threat. Just two civilians in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Threat?” Simon asked with a grin on his lips.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” the blonde guy said. “It’s just a generic term.”

But Simon was too far gone. A pretty, Reckoner girl had called him a threat. He was not letting that go. “Being generic is my specialty. Ask anyone that knows me.”

“Oh, wow,” the girl said, though not in a good-impressed tone.

Clary would’ve snorted, but then a male voice buzzed urgently in the two Reckoners earbuds and a shot was fired. The blonde guy gasped and moved to get a better view. From where Clary stood she could see Aldertree falling to the ground. Izzy took a step back, her pretty face smudged in blood. She didn’t seem to care, though. She took out her serpent-shaped bracelet and it transformed into a spear in her hands. With a grunt, she impaled Aldertree’s neck for good measure.

The blonde guy whispered. “Sparks, Izzy. He was already dead.”

“Better safe than sorry. Let’s go.” The girl grabbed Simon by the arm. “You two are coming with us.”

Heart skipping a beat, Clary didn’t find it in herself to protest. This was exactly what she wanted. She had witnessed a Reckoner’s attack and now she was going with them. It wouldn’t have worked so well if she had planned it. “I’m Clary. That’s Simon.”

“Didn’t ask,” the girl said and started to run the other way, dragging Simon with her.

The guy just shrugged, but he took Clary’s backpack. “Come on. This place will be swarming with Shadowhunters in no time.” He was gone before Clary could say anything. She had no other option but to follow.

And it was a good thing that she did. The four of them had barely made it out of the building and onto the next street when a group of Shadowhunters dashed by them. They were able to hide in the shadows but had to advance much more carefully after that. The girl led the way, crossing pools of light only when she was sure they wouldn’t be seen. She’d asked for Simon’s shotgun but thankfully didn’t have to use it.

But that wouldn’t last long. The Shadowhunters were everywhere: it was a miracle they hadn’t been found yet. Clary could see the squads moving, some of them even accompanied by minor Epics in the Angel’s payroll. They were going to be caught. 

A shot was fired, back at the alley where Aldertree was dead. Clary gasped, turning to the blonde guy but he shook his head and put a finger on his own lips. Shutting her mouth, Clary waited. Another two shots and then the Shadowhunter squads moved to its source. The path was clear and they moved quickly. 

That was when Clary heard the crossfire start. She stopped, looking at the two Reckoners incredulously. “Are you guys just going to abandon the sniper? What about the girl distracting Aldertree? Is this how the Reckoners do things?! We have to go back and help them escape too!”

The two agents shared an exasperated look. The guy shrugged as if he didn’t particularly care about the whole exchange, but the girl sighed heavily. “Alec and Izzy will be just fine. Right now, we’re in more danger than they are,” she explained. “We have to move.”

“No,” Simon said with surprising confidence. “We’re not going anywhere. Not until you two give us a reason to trust you.”

Clary was impressed. Simon had rarely been this assertive before. Certainly not when they both attended the Academy, where Simon would be regularly picked up by the bigger kids for his glasses or stutter. Who would’ve thought that kid would be telling off Reckoner agents one day?

“Do you understand the situation you’re in?” The blonde guy asked, sounding half bemused and half annoyed. “You have no weapons and no plan. The Shadowhunters are closing in and you two will be caught near a crime scene. And not just any crime; the assassination of a High Epic. Not the time for demanding anything.”

Simon frowned. “What are you talking about? I have a shotgun and Clary has her pistols.”

The girl arched an eyebrow at him. “No, you don’t. We have your shotgun and, presumably, Clary’s pistols.” She nodded to the weapon in her hands and the backpack the guy was holding. Sparks, Clary hadn’t even realized they had been taken away. “But sure. My name is Maia and that’s Jace. Good enough?”

“Sounds like it’s not up to us to decide,” Clary said, heart thumping against her chest.

Jace smirked. “Smart girl. Now let’s go before we miss our ride.” He pointed to a back alley with his own gun. “After you two.”

Without any options left, Clary pulled Simon to the direction Jace had pointed. She tried not to appear worried but there was a nagging feeling in her chest. She’d assumed the Reckoners had dragged them along for their safety, maybe even because they’d seen something special about them. After all, Clary and Simon had been able to accurately predict Aldertree’s execution, down to the when and where. But if that was so, Maia and Jace wouldn’t have taken their weapons away. 

No. Something was up. And Clary was starting to dread what. The Reckoners didn’t leave witnesses behind. Human or Epic. That was their only exception to the ‘avoid human kills’ rule.

But Clary didn’t have much time to figure out a way out of that mess. As soon as the four of them walked out onto the next street, a jeep stopped by. It was black and big enough to fit two entire families inside. The door opened and Izzy - the gorgeous agent - smirked at them from the passenger seat. How on Earth did she manage to escape the Shadowhunters?

“We leave you two alone for five minutes and you come back with kids?” Izzy teased, eyes flickering to Maia and Jace. They didn’t dignify that with an answer but that only made her chuckle. “All right. Hop on.”

Maia climbed in first, gesturing for Clary and Simon to follow. Jace was the last one to get in. Luckily, there was plenty of space and they didn’t have to squeeze to fit: the jeep had six seats available aside from the two on the front.

Simon cleared his throat as the driver - a black man with a serious expression - pulled away, rushing down the streets. “So, road trip, hm?” Simon looked uncomfortable, although Clary couldn’t blame him. That was probably the first time he’d ever been in a car. Nobody in Brooklyn had enough money to have cars: that was a privilege for those who lived in the city or were Epics.

“Don’t get too excited,” Jace said, looking out the window. “We’re not singing tunes together.”

“Too bad. You look like a terrific entertainer,” Simon retorted.

“Are those two the threats?” The man driving asked, shutting the boys up. He was older than everyone else in the car and the only one that didn’t wear black. Instead, he had a shirt on. A real, elegant shirt with buttons and a collar. Clary hadn’t seen such a clean and well taken care of garment like that in years.

Maia leaned forward from her seat. “Yes, Sir. Civilians, unarmed. They were there to watch.”

That piqued Izzy’s attention. She turned back to look at Clary. “Did you enjoy the show?”

Simon nodded enthusiastically, but Clary just frowned. That was their chance. Whoever the driver was, he was the one in charge. The ‘Alpha’ Maia mentioned. “We weren’t there just to watch. We want to join. We want to be Reckoners too.”

Nobody answered that, though Clary didn’t know if it was because of what she said or because the driver had stopped the car. They all hopped off, leaving only Simon and her inside. They exchanged a quick look and decided there was no other option but to keep going. And not only because neither Maia nor Jace had returned their weapons. Going back meant crossing the streets during a Shadowhunter investigation. People would be expected to stay out of the streets or risk being mistaken by the enemy. That was enough grounds to be shot on sight.

As she jumped out of the jeep, Clary realized they were on the docks. There was a terrible, humid smell in the air that came from the polluted rivers around them. Nobody ever went so far down the island, not unless they absolutely had to. The Angel purposefully kept the area uninhabitable, as large bodies of water interfered with his tracking power. 

But the smell didn’t seem to bother the Reckoners: they just went straight to an abandoned building that was once a restaurant. Chinese by the looks of the sign. The place looked wrecked, every piece of furniture stolen or broken. There hadn’t been food there for years, nor any way to cook it. Still, it was nice to think of that place as it once was. Clary could imagine the tables and the smell of wontons coming from the kitchen. It came to her like a vivid painting in her mind.

A much nicer image than the reality. The only thing inside the restaurant were the Reckoners. Aside from the ones they’d met, there were two men. They were both tall and intimidating, even if they had been holding hands and talking softly to each other before Clary and Simon arrived. The tallest man glared at them but it was the other one that truly gave Clary the chills.

He had spiked black hair and triangular eyes painted in black makeup. There was a weird energy to him, something violent and powerful. He didn’t carry a rifle like the other man. In fact, he didn’t seem to have weapons at all, though they might’ve been concealed under his red jacket. Yet, he seemed far more dangerous than anyone present.

“So,” Izzy said cheerfully, as if the entire thing was a joke to her. She pointed at the taller man, the one with a rifle and that looked like a male version of her. All black hair and gorgeous sharp features. “This is my brother Alec. That is Magnus.”

“Who are these kids?” Alec asked. His voice was deep and distrustful, almost hostile. Clary decided she didn’t like him, even if he had hit the shot on Aldertree from an impressive distance and with his sister in the way. Alec wasn’t much older than her, three or four years tops. Being a good shot didn’t give him the right to be a jerk.

It wasn’t Izzy who answered that, though. It was Luke. “A problem to be solved.”

They all looked at him, as if expecting a verdict. Whatever Luke decided, Clary had the distinct impression the others would follow without hesitation. There was no way they hadn’t heard her in the car, but Clary had to make sure she had fought for what she believed to the bitter end. “We want to join you,” she repeated, somehow surer now. “Simon and I have grown up studying the Reckoners. We know everything there is to know about you. Your patterns, your tactics, your targets.”

“We even got Aldertree’s assassination right,” Simon chimed in anxiously. “We knew it was going to be him. Nobody told us. We can be useful! We know everything about Epics!”

“Do you?” Luke raised an eyebrow. “What was Aldertree’s weakness?”

Clary swallowed hard. The truth was they had no idea. All the data they had on Aldertree was about his powers and his crimes. That night had been the first time they had ever seen him grow solid. It could’ve been anything. Weaknesses could be very innocent objects, like the fabric of Izzy’s clothes or the metal of her jewelry. Maybe even something in her makeup.

Simon burst out everything they knew about Aldertree. Maybe he hoped he could figure out the weakness as he went. Clary frowned, trying to concentrate in silence. Most Epics knew their weakness and Aldertree was powerful enough to have gathered enemies. He’d known his, even if it was to avoid it. And he certainly didn’t try to avoid Izzy. If his weakness was an object that she could’ve carried, Aldertree would’ve paid attention to it. Whatever it was, it had been something gradual: he didn’t just turn solid straight away, it was a process.

Watching Izzy and her amused smirk, Clary blinked. “You only touched him after he was dead,” she murmured. “You didn’t want to warn him that he was turning solid. It was happening without him realizing it. The more time he spent with you, the more the weakness worked.”

The sparkle in Izzy’s eyes shone brightly. She seemed to be having fun at that game, though she didn’t give Clary any hints. Not that she needed to. Not when Izzy was standing right there, gorgeous and enticing. The way she looked at Clary, as if she was so interested in hearing what she had to say. That flirty smile on her lips.

“Attraction!” Clary and Simon said at the same time. They smiled to each other and Clary looked at Izzy. “Aldertree’s weakness was being attracted to you.” 

Simon blinked, frowning. “Relatable, really.”

Izzy giggled and suddenly she looked more innocent than before. Normal, almost. So she was giving them a tip after all. “Nicely done, both of you.”

“Yes,” Luke said. He seemed thoughtful. “But the Reckoners don’t simply study Epics.” He stood up straight, strong arms clasped over his torso. He was a handsome man, someone that gave off a very dependable vibe. Clary could see why the others would follow him without hesitation. She wondered if Luke had kids. “We kill them. It’s murder and it’s not pretty.”

“Good,” Clary said, taking a step forward. “I want to kill them too. All of them. But one in particular.” She inhaled, feeling Simon’s gaze on her back. It grounded her. “ I want to kill the Angel.”

The stunned silence that followed lasted for a second until Jace whistled. He and Alec exchanged a mocking smile. “Yeah, right. Keep on dreaming,” Jace said, making Alec snort.

“It’s not a dream.” Clary narrowed her eyes at them but then looked back at Luke. “And it is not impossible either. I’ve seen him get hurt. My mother did it when he came to kill her. To kill us.” Inhaling sharply, Clary steadied herself. “The Angel is my father. And I’m going to kill him.”

For a moment, nobody said anything. All Clary could hear was her heart thumping in her ear. That was it, she said it. For thirteen years, the only other person who knew was Simon. The only other person who understood. They grew up with that secret bonding them, fueling their hatred toward the Epics, though one in particular.

Magnus giggled loudly. Clary startled as she realized all the anger on him was gone. When he smiled, the whole room seemed to light up. “I like her.”

\---

Fifteen minutes later, Luke and Magnus were still talking in the back where the kitchen used to be. Clary and Simon were left behind with the rest of the Reckoners. Presumably, the two men had been discussing whether or not to let them join the group, though Clary couldn’t be sure. She had told them about the night she had lost everything in hopes it would persuade Luke. The night when her father had killed her mother and how she had only survived because her brother had let her go.

Clary remembered it vividly. She had been only eight years old, used to her father coming to visit and bringing her brother with him. Jonathan was a year older than her. Something had happened to him when he was just a baby that made Jocelyn stop loving him. Clary didn’t know at the time, but her big brother had become an Epic. He had been one of the first people to turn. 

But to her, Jonathan had just been Jonathan. A quiet boy that used to draw and paint with Clary. He didn’t that night, though. He had shoved her aside when she came to hug him as if he hated her.

That was probably when Jocelyn realized something was wrong. Her mother had pulled Clary away and told her to go and hide. Jocelyn stayed behind, staring at her husband as if looking for something in his expression. Valentine Morgenstern hadn’t been handsome, but he had warm features and attentive eyes. Only, his eyes had been different that night. Colder and harder, like a beast ready to attack.

He’d ordered Jocelyn to come with them and bring Clary too. He’d said they would live as a family again, that he was different. Better. Clary remembered how amazed she had been when she saw her father pick up the car with his bare hands. She was just a child but she knew that wasn’t supposed to be possible.

Clary wanted to go with him. She wanted to live with her father and brother again. She didn’t like that it was just her mother and her. That desire still haunted her, a shame that she could shrug off as a childish wish. At the time, she didn’t understand why Jocelyn had kept them away. That they had become Epics; monsters. 

But Jocelyn did. She had told Valentine that no, they wouldn’t go. She had pointed a gun at him and took the shot. What happened next was confusing, but Clary remembered how suddenly the car her father was holding fell onto him. But Jonathan moved too fast, pulling their father away back to safety. The bullet had hit Valentine’s arm, making him bleed. 

Jocelyn yelled for her to run and Clary did, though only after she saw Valentine rushing to her mother. Clary would never forget how his hand had burst through her mother’s back, her heart in Valentine’s hand. Or the sound of Valentine telling Jonathan to chase her down. 

Luke clearly wasn’t convinced but Magnus had nodded along while Clary was talking. He gave Clary hope, something she didn’t remember feeling in years. And he was arguing in her favor now. Honestly, it was more than Clary could ever hope for.

“So you two study Epics?” Maia said. Clary hadn’t noticed her move but there she was, standing in front of Simon and her. Jace and Alec were sitting by a window while Izzy checked on their weapons. They all seemed very used to Luke and Magnus discussing things on their own. 

Simon perked up. “Yeah. We even have an archive and everything. Every Epic in New York and the famous ones from other parts of the country. Clary draws them.”

Maia blinked, sounding curious. “Can I see that?” She didn’t seem half as hostile as she had been. If anything, she seemed friendly. 

“It’s in my backpack. Can I…?” Clary waited for Maia to nod in agreement and then rushed to her backpack, fishing out her tablet. She had to admit the prospect of a Reckoner inspecting her work filled her with pride. “I keep it offline so it can’t be hacked,” Clary explained, taping on the screen. She opened up Aldertree’s file and added in his weakness before giving the tablet to Maia. “We have 354 Epics cataloged.”

“Oh,” Maia said quietly, moving her fingers through the list. Izzy joined them and opened a file. The Vampire showed up. Real name: Daniel Quinn. Super dexterity and a thing for killing less powerful Epics. His weakness was bare feet, which Simon discovered after overhearing a really gross story about the man’s bedroom preferences.

The Reckoners killed the Vampire the year before. Izzy blinked. “Oh, I remember this guy.” She narrowed her eyes, staring at the picture. “Did you draw this? It looks just like him. Douchey expression and all.” Izzy looked up and smiled at Clary. “It’s amazing.”

Clary nodded sheepishly, realizing she was blushing. Having them look at the research was fine, but only Simon ever saw her drawings. It felt kind of private, though it was ridiculous to feel that way. Those weren’t just drawings, they were records of Epics’ appearances. 

Izzy’s exclamations had the boys join them. Jace carefully grabbed the tablet from Maia’s hand and scrolled down, opening files at random. Alec frowned. “This is very good research,” he observed.

“For kids?” Clary asked, one eyebrow arched as she waited for a reprimand.

But Alec shook his head. “No. For anyone.” He sounded so sincere, it made Clary blush again. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. 

Thankfully, Alec didn’t notice her as he took the tablet out of Jace’s hand and stopped at a few Epics. The most powerful of the bunch. There was the Angel himself, the biggest file Clary and Simon had. They had logged in everything about him: his various powers, the story of how he murdered Clary’s mother, every rule in New York City. 

But there were others too. The Angel’s Inner Circle, like his Head of Information, an illusionist Epic named DuMort. Clary had a drawing of her, or at least of the image she presented herself as. There was Jonathan’s file too. Clary refused to call him the Demon even if the name fitted what her brother had become. Finally, Alec opened the file for the Head of Administration, Malachi, the one that commanded the Shadowhunters.

And then he kept going. Alec moved on to the files of Epics that, weirdly, didn’t affiliate themselves to anyone’s regime. The Seelie Queen, a controller-type that took no sides but was involved in every conflict in the country. And the Prince of Hell, a mysterious man that made a name for fighting other Epics. Neither Clary nor Simon had found a picture of him or was able to find any decent descriptions. All they knew were his powers and that the Prince of Hell had disappeared, probably killed by a rival Epic. 

Clary had kept him there because his case fascinated her. The Prince of Hell had many kills to his name, but all of them were other Epics. In his fights, the Prince had accidentally saved hundreds of people. He was the closest Clary had ever seen of a decent Epic. Alec seemed to agree because the ghost of a smile crossed his lips as he read the entire file.

“So…” Simon said cheekily. He grinned when he got everyone’s attention. “Are we good additions to the team or what?”

“I don’t know about you two, but this is,” Alec said and gave the tablet to Izzy. She promptly connected it to her phone and started to download all the information. 

Clary gasped. “Wait! What are you doing?”

Although Izzy smiled apologetically, she didn’t stop. Alec stepped between the two girls, covering his sister with his body. “Whatever the Alpha decides, your research is useful. We’re not going to delete it, but we’re keeping a copy.” Unnervingly, he smirked. “Grammatical errors and all.”

Huffing, Clary took back her thoughts. Alec was the biggest jerk in the world. But she didn’t have much time to protest since the kitchen door opened and Luke walked out, a serious expression on his face. Magnus followed him, smirking. That soothed Clary’s worries.

“Alright, Kiddo,” Luke said, looking straight at Clary, “I have a few questions for you and your friend.” Simon gasped beside her but faced Luke nonetheless. “Starting with that story about the Demon letting you go. He’s the Angel’s henchman. Nobody ever survives him. The man is a psychopath and a killing machine; he once murdered a chef just because he didn’t like the food of the restaurant.”

Clary had heard that story. Her heart sunk in her chest. “I don’t know what to tell you. Jonathan… I was able to hide from him for a day and a half before he found me. But then he just pulled a handful of my hair and let me go. I know all Epics are monsters but he was a kid then. Maybe that made him stop.” Clary clenched her teeth. “Our father is the problem. He’s the one that made Jonathan into what he is today… But maybe he can be saved. The Angel never found me, so he must think I’m dead. Jonathan kept my secret.”

Luke exchanged a glance with Magnus, who had gone back to Alec’s side. Magnus nodded, as if he’d just confirmed something. Luke sighed and turned his attention back to Clary. “Do you know the Angel’s weakness?”

“I… _We_ have some ideas,” Clary said, looking at Simon.

He nodded eagerly. “It has something to do with what happened after he told Mrs. F that she and Clary were coming with them. So either her saying no or shooting him. Maybe something about the gun or her being someone he loved.” Simon frowned. “That would be assuming he can love, which is not a given considering he’s an Epic and all.”

Alec scoffed, though it sounded more angry than disdainful. “So you have nothing.” He turned to Luke. “I saw their file on the Angel. All documented stuff, nothing new. If Izzy didn’t have everything before, she does now.”

As if cued, Izzy’s phone beeped, announcing the end of the download. All of Clary’s and Simon’s lifework was duplicated by the Reckoners. They were essentially useless now. Clary felt her mouth go dry. If Maia shot them both with Simon’s gun, nobody would stop her. Nobody would even care that they were gone.

Simon took a step forward. “Not everything we know was written down,” he said, strangely calm. There was a hint of insolence there that made Clary smirk despite herself. “At least, not all of the Angel’s powers. Not the most important one.”

Jace arched an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “The Angel’s powers are well-known. Super strength, tracking abilities, danger sense combined with precognition, which elevates him to High Epic status.”

“You’re wrong, none of those is the most important one.” Simon looked at Clary, waiting for her approval. She gave it with a nod. It was just a theory but it made sense. Besides, it would prove their worth. “The Angel can steal other Epics’ powers.”

Silence greeted him but Simon kept going. “Think about it. The Epics began to pop up after the year 2000 but the Angel was not in the first generation. He was just a man when Jocelyn divorced him in 2001. But then he returned in 2005, super strong. I mean, could he be more basic as far as powers go? I’d like to find an Epic who isn’t super strong, right?”

Simon smiled at Izzy, clearly looking for an ally. When she didn’t return the gesture, he swallowed hard but kept going. “Anyway, he didn’t have precog powers or he would’ve known Mrs. F was going to shoot him before she even reached for the gun. Clary ran away from him and he didn’t try to track her down at the spot. He let the Demon find her on his own. If he had those powers then, why didn’t the Angel use them? It only makes sense if he got them afterward. Besides, his powers are all over the place. He’s a mix of a controller, a psychic, and a physical Epic. Completely unheard of.”

“He does have a weird skillset,” Maia said quietly. She blinked when Jace frowned at her and then shrugged. “He does!”

Izzy nodded. “That also explains why other Epics would follow him. The Angel is strong, but not particularly strong as far as High Epics go. But if he can take away powers, then he becomes really dangerous as an enemy.”

“You want to kill him,” Luke said slowly, looking at Clary. In his voice, it sounded like a simple conversation, a topic to be discussed. But there was something in his eyes that indicated otherwise. Luke was the leader of that cell of the Reckoners. He wouldn’t have gotten that position if he didn’t enjoy the idea of an Epic dead. “Do you have a plan to go with that wish?”

Clary and Simon exchanged a look and she nodded. “Yeah, we do have a few ideas. They are incomplete but one of them might work. If you let us explain it, I’m sure we can convince you.”

Luke nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll let you talk, Kiddo. But it’s not me you have to convince.” He pointed at Alec. “Convince him.”

Biting her lips, Clary figured out she had more chances marching up to the Angel and shooting him dead all by herself. 

Alec smirked, an unnerving thing as if he had just won the discussion before it even started. “Well, little girl, go on.”

\---

Clary didn’t manage to convince Alec. He had about six questions for every step of her plan and if Clary was able to answer four in total, it was too much. She did a good enough job to have Jace and Izzy helping her out at some points, but Alec was obstinate. He didn’t buy Clary’s idea of luring the Angel out by pretending to be a rival Epic coming to challenge him, he thought to strike at his base was suicide, and he snorted when Clary suggested using herself as bait.

“If you have a death wish, leave us out of it,” Alec said to that.

“Is ‘no’ the only word you know?” Clary asked, annoyed. 

That had the Reckoners snickering, but none louder than Magnus.

“That’s how Alexander expresses concern,” Magnus said, a hand moving down Alec’s arm. A way gentler gesture than Alec sparkling deserved. “It would be a problem if he agreed right away.”

Alec rolled his eyes but didn’t move away from Magnus’ touch. “I would agree if any of her ideas were good.” Although his words were harsh, the tone Alec used to talk to Magnus was soft. Clary had no idea how he pulled that off. “The Angel doesn’t face rival Epics; he sends the Demon to deal with them first and then he shows up either to finish them off or to accept their allegiance. And maybe advertising his daughter is alive would draw him out, but we can’t protect her so there’s no point. We have nothing.”

“Look, I know I don’t have a plan yet.” Clary inhaled sharply, feeling her body shake. “But something has to be done. The Reckoners are failing. Killing strong Epics sends a message but it doesn’t change anything. Aldertree will be replaced by tomorrow and the Angel will still be there. The Circle is not going anywhere. We have to go after the big ones or everything will stay the same.” She sobs, eyes watering in frustration. “I know I can figure out his weakness. I saw him bleed. He can be killed if we come up with a good enough plan.”

“Then let’s come up with a good enough plan,” Luke said and his eyes were shining with excitement. Clary gasped, surprised. She might’ve not been able to convince Alec, but she had a suspicion that was never the point. Luke was testing her commitment to the idea, how deeply she wanted to do it. 

It seemed she had passed his test. Luke turned to the Reckoners. “Izzy, go through everything we have on the Angel to try and figure out his weakness. Simon and Clary will help you with that. Jace and Maia, gather supplies. We’re staying in New York for now. Alec and Magnus, you are in charge of information. I want everything there is to know about the Circle.” Luke stopped for a second. “Clary is right, we’re failing. It’s time to change that.”

As exciting as hearing those words were, the next couple of days consisted of nothing more than planning. Maia and Jace had been able to find enough food and supplies as they needed, and more importantly, incenses that masked the odor from the river. Clary’s days were basically sitting beside Izzy and Simon and studying what they had on the Angel. 

Other than that, she’d help Maia, Magnus, or Luke at the improvised kitchen and practice her aim with Jace and Alec. The downtime served for Clary to get to know the others. Luke Garroway was not only the leader of this Reckoner’s cell as Clary had originally figured out: he was the founder of the entire organization. It was Simon who got Maia to tell them the story behind it. Apparently, Luke’s younger sister Cleophas became an Epic and went on a murder spree. He had to kill her in self-defense. Since then, Luke was determined to stop the suffering of both the humans and the Epics alike.

Maia didn’t tell them why she had joined the Reckoners, but Clary suspected it had something to do with the scar in her neck. She didn’t care, though. Maia was fierce and funny, and she made sure Clary and Simon were easing into their new Reckoner’s life. Her only two rules were to not ask her about her past and not tease her about whatever she and Jace had. Which was kind of hard, considering they vanished whenever they were done with their chores of the day.

Jace was nice too when he was in the mood. Adoptive brother to Alec and Izzy, they had a baby brother and a mother hid somewhere in the Midwest. Izzy was by far the most friendly of them, though Jace had his moments. Clary thought he and Simon were growing close, despite the constant bickering.

Alec, on the other hand, kept his distance. He was close with Maia, always talking quietly with her. He and Luke had a more professional relationship, but amicable nonetheless. But it was Magnus whom he spent most of his time with. It took Clary three days to realize they were a thing. Unlike Maia and Jace, Alec and Magnus stayed with the others unless they were out on a mission. But they were always talking quietly to each other, which Clary had assumed was about forming a plan to attack the Angel.

Her assumptions changed when she accidentally walked in on them kissing at the back of their improvised base. That certainly hasn't endeared her to Alec, who Clary frankly thought hated her at that point. 

But Magnus had laughed it out. It was silly to think Clary had found him intimidating. True, sometimes Magnus would go into foul moods, especially after coming back from missions. Alec would always be there for him when that happened, listening to he complain and curse. The others would scatter, pretending they couldn’t hear or see what was happening. Clary and Simon quickly learned to do the same.

But, other than those times, Magnus was the Reckoner Clary enjoyed the most. There was a timelessness to him that inspired her. She had drawn almost ten pictures of Magnus already and he had liked every one. 

And, of course, the way he looked at Alec was touching. In fact, the way they looked at each other was something out of this world. Clary had forgotten what it was like to see people in love. Watching Alec and Magnus exchange secretive smiles warmed Clary’s heart. Life with the Epics was hard but it didn’t mean their only option was to merely survive. No. Alec and Magnus weren’t surviving; they were living. Clary wanted something like that for her one day. 

But that would only happen after the Angel was dead. After her mother was avenged. Then, Clary would start to live again. Then, Clary would look for the happiness Alec and Magnus shared. But not before.

\---

Luke gathered them around one night, as they all devoured the pasta Magnus had cooked for them. It had an Oriental sauce to it that was both spicy and sweet. Clary liked it a lot. 

The dinner was quiet as they usually were. The Reckoners had a tradition to always have at least one meal with every member. Clary and Simon had been a part of all of them, but the others come and went to fulfill their missions. They had come to appreciate it as it was the time the Reckoners seemed most relaxed. Clary had thought of them as those Epic killing machines, but the truth was that they were all people. Good people, with flaws and hopes and dreams.

“We have a plan,” Luke announced out of nowhere. He exchanged a glance with Alec, who nodded, and then with Maia. The girl inhaled sharply, a serious expression on her face, but her eyes were gleaming with excitement. 

Clary just blinked, too stunned to speak. Good thing Simon never experienced that. He perked forward. “Are you serious? A real plan?”

“It even has a start, a middle, and an end,” Magnus said with a smirk. He sat by Alec’s side as always, close enough that their shoulders were almost touching.

Luke smiled mildly, shaking his head. Clary hadn’t had a lot of chances to talk to him, but there was a tenderness to the man that she liked. She had realized that trusting Luke had come easily to her. Respecting him, even easier.

Clearing his throat, Luke returned to his serious expression. “The Angel’s reign depends on the Inner Circle. He is a powerful Epic by himself, but he needs the Demon, DuMort, and Malachi to maintain order. If Simon’s hunch is right and his primary ability is to steal powers, the only reason he’d have to keep them around is to run the city for him.”

Simon opened his mouth but a glare from Alec shut him up. Luke kept going. “As it is, the Angel is untouchable. DuMort monitors his enemies, Malachi keeps the problems away from him, and if anyone is able to break through that blockade, the Demon will be there to save him. Worse, the moment someone decides on how to attack the Angel, he will know how and when it will happen.”

“That is why he still doesn’t know about you,” Alec said, his eyes set on Clary and Simon. “Without a concrete plan, you don’t show up as a threat. Just hating him isn’t enough to activate his danger sense.”

“So- Not coming up with a plan was good? It kept us alive?” Simon grinned.

Alec exchanged an annoyed glance with Jace, who shrugged and said, “That’s not how I’d define ‘good’ but overall, yes. Your lack of a plan kept you alive. Congrats on your ineffectiveness.”

“Thank you,” Simon said with pride.

Clary frowned, ignoring their little boy-fight. “But now we do have a plan. How can we be sure he doesn’t already know about it and isn’t sending an army of Shadowhunters down here?”

“Because our plan doesn’t involve killing the Angel,” Magnus said casually. “At least, not yet.”

With a nod, Luke took over again. “First, we have to take down the Inner Circle. Starting with information. DuMort might be the biggest threat to us because she will be able to see us coming. She has to go first. And we know how to take her out.”

“How?” Clary asked. DuMort was one of the most powerful illusionists in North America. She was not only able to create illusions the size of arenas, her range was absurd. DuMort could send a double of herself to every corner of New York and not even leave her bed in the morning. Most illusionists struggled to make themselves invisible, but DuMort could maintain her personal invisibility for days perfectly. That had been how she gained the Angel’s respect in the first place: by escaping the Demon for long enough to reach the Angel.

“We play against her weaknesses, but not only her Epic weakness,” Magnus said and, for once, his calm demeanor showed cracks. His voice wavered just slightly. “DuMort… She’s frivolous enough to never miss a party. She could send a double or skip one, but she never does. Not when she gets the chance to shine.”

There was something in the way Magnus talked about DuMort that made Clary frown. It was almost as if he knew her personally. “Have you ever fought her?” Clary asked, trying to remember any records of the Reckoners striking against the Illusionist.

Magnus blinked slowly. “In a way. She and I go way back.”

Something in his tone made it clear Magnus didn’t want to elaborate, so Clary bit her tongue. She wanted to know more. How did Magnus survive an encounter against DuMort? She was ruthless. Aside from the Demon, she had the biggest body count of all Epics on the Circle’s payroll. 

“How do we kill her?” Alec asked, his voice cold. Ever the professional. Clary had to admit there was something to respect about Alec even if she didn’t particularly like him.

Luke turned to Izzy. “Project the map of the city, please. Point out the administration buildings.”

She nodded and tapped on the screen of her phone. A beam of light projected out of the camera, creating a 3D map of New York on the floor. There were three buildings that stood out, painted in red. Clary recognized them easily: the Guard, the Institute, and the Accords Hall. They formed the basis of the Circle’s regime. 

“The Angel rules the city from these three points,” Izzy explained. She pointed at the Institute first. “This is where Malachi is stationed. The Institute is the base of the Shadowhunter operations and their training center. That pretty building there is the Guard. It’s rare that any of the Inner Circle Epics go there since that is where the Angel’s administrators take care of the daily business. But it could happen. Now, the Accord’s Hall.” Izzy tapped on her phone again and the map zoomed onto the building. “Here’s where they hold their biggest social events. All important parties and dinners are held here.”

Jace blinked, leaning forward from where he was sitting. “There’s a ball coming up.” He smirked when Izzy grinned with excitement. “Fancy clothes and good food. Right up your alley.”

Clary frowned, staring at Jace first and then at Luke. “We’re killing her during a ball? Won’t it be swarming with Shadowhunters and other Epics? I thought the Reckoners didn’t take risks.” 

“You have a lot of thoughts, don’t you?” Maia narrowed her eyes at her. She didn’t like it when people questioned Luke. 

Deciding it was best to ignore the hostile tone, Clary just waited for an explanation. Luke nodded, acknowledging her concern. “This is a risk greater than what we are used to taking. But so is the reward. DuMort is no mere Epic. She won’t be expecting to be attacked during a party and that is the best way we can explore her weakness.”

“Which is?” Simon asked. 

Magnus inhaled sharply. “Being surprised. She has always hated it.” He looked over to Alec, who held his hand. A small smile crossed Magnus’ lips and he continued. “The plan is simple. Izzy, Maia, and Alec will infiltrate the ball as guests and search for DuMort. Luke will be monitoring the building. Jace, you’re with me. We’ll remain backstage until it’s time to act.”

“What about Clary and I? We’re going with,” Simon insisted. 

“You’re with me,” Luke said, staring at Simon. “And Clary is with Alec.”

Clary’s eyes shot wide open. “What?” She looked at Alec, who seemed just as appalled as she was. “Can’t I be with Izzy or Maia?”

Luke stared at her and it was enough to shut up any protests. Resigned, Clary huffed and crossed her arms. She noticed that Alec spent the rest of the plan’s explanation with a serious, professional expression, but he was the first to leave the room. Magnus quickly chased after him. 

Stepping outside too, Clary turned her back to where Alec and Magnus were discussing in whispers. Alec seemed annoyed, but Magnus was working his magic on him. It would be fine.

Or Clary hoped so. She couldn’t help but feel nervous. Luke had agreed to her plan of killing the Angel, but now they were actually acting on it. Striking against DuMort would change the game. If they managed to kill her, New York would catch fire. Not enough to get to the Angel, but enough to make a difference. One step closer to him. 

Someone stopped behind Clary and she turned around to see Izzy. She had a weirdly excited gleam to her eyes. 

“What?” Clary asked, confused.

“We have a party to crash,” Izzy said, her smile growing. “And, I assume, you didn’t pack any fancy dresses in that backpack of yours.”

Clary blinked. “I… no. I don’t think I even own any fancy dresses.”

Izzy giggled and smirked at her. “Not a problem.” She offered her hand for Clary to take. “Shall we?”

Blushing slightly, Clary wondered when was the last time she had dressed up. She vaguely remembered watching her mother put on makeup. Clary had never been much of a fashionista, but she enjoyed the ritual of it. 

Maybe it was time she created some new memories. “We shall.” Clary smiled and took Izzy’s hand. 

\---

The Accords’ Hall shone in gold. Everything looked perfectly put together, no detail left unchecked. Clary could barely believe her eyes. There was just so much. Too much, of everything. Food, drinks, people. She had never seen such an abundance. Growing up in Brooklyn, a party was a bunch of scraps people worked hard to save and maybe some music. But in Manhattan? A party was the testimony of success. And nobody was as successful as the Circle.

Clary gasped as she and Alec approached the main entrance. Izzy had taught Clary to walk in her heels, but Clary’s nerves were getting to her. The shoes weren’t even that high, just a few inches to keep her posture straight. But just knowing they were there, as well as the long, tight dress… Clary was a wreck of nerves.

And, of course, Alec noticed it. “You’re shaking,” he whispered, rather unhelpfully. “Quit doing that.” 

Before Clary could retort, the piece in her ear buzzed with Magnus’ voice. “Don’t listen to him, Biscuit. Alexander is just nervous. It’s his first unsupervised party. You look great.” Clary giggled when Alec frowned at that. “You do too, darling,” Magnus added. “Stunning.”

Alec did look amazing. He was wearing a black suit paired up with a black shirt underneath. Clary had no idea where the Reckoners had gotten such beautiful clothes. The only thing she knew was that Magnus, Izzy, and Maia had gone out and came back with some amazing options. Simon was pretty sure they stole it, which made sense. Clary just wondered from whom.

“I’m just… nervous,” Clary admitted. “I’m not exactly a party animal. Nor do I know what I’m doing in these heels.”

Izzy’s voice popped up with a snort. “The secret is balance. Alec, let Clary lean on you. Like I used to when we were kids and I wore mom’s shoes while she was traveling for business.”

Rolling his eyes, Alec offered Clary his arm and she took it. The sensation was different than when she did it with Simon; it was somehow worse. At least with Simon there was a sense of companionship that years of friendship created. With Alec, it was just weird. But Clary pushed her discomfort aside. Alec seemed to do the same as he focused on the door. 

Inside the Accord’s Hall, the party had begun. Izzy and Maia were already there; beautiful women were encouraged to attend these sort of events so Epics wouldn’t walk home alone. It had been easy for them to dress up and sneak in. 

Clary and Alec, on the other hand, had to pass as children of New York’s high society. Which, in Clary’s honest opinion, was just plain ridiculous. Alec looked like he was about to murder someone and Clary could barely walk without embarrassing herself. She wished Simon was with her. He’d crack a joke and that would make everything seem easier even if it wasn’t.

Before Clary noticed, she and Alec were standing in front of the Shadowhunter that was guarding the entrance. Clary gasped, feeling her heartbeat race. 

“John Monteverde and Lydia Branwell,” Alec announced, his voice sharp and commanding. There was so much authority on it, Clary almost believed him. Where had he learned to speak like that? Alec wasn’t the leader of the Reckoners, but he might as well lead one of the cells one day. Clary wouldn’t be surprised if Luke was grooming Alec into the position.

The Shadowhunter didn’t seem surprised at all by Alec’s tone. He probably assumed Alec was one of the rich people from Manhattan, the ones that had enough power to act on it whenever Epics weren’t around. Those would be the attendees of this event. 

“Enjoy the party, Mr. Monteverde. Miss Branwell,” the Shadowhunter responded once he checked the names on the list and then looked at the couple behind Alec and Clary. Just like that, they were in. It almost felt too easy.

“Who are John Monteverde and Lydia Branwell?” Clary asked as they walked around the saloon. They saw Izzy and Maia talking at the other side of the room, surrounded by other glamorous-looking women who seemed to be having the time of their lives. Every now and then, though, the smiles would fade and the women would sip on their drinks as if that would make the night go by faster. Maybe it would.

They kept going and Alec ignored the question. Clary was about to ask again but then something caught her eye. Some of the walls were covered by books, others had paintings; luxuries from old times. Clary felt like staring at the images for a while, admiring them as they were once intended to be.

“It’s impressive,” Alec commented. He was looking at the books, but Clary figured it didn’t make a difference what he was talking about. The whole place was impressive. Nobody else had the time or resources to care about these things. And she didn’t think they truly cared.

“It’s unfair,” Clary said, fist clenching. “These are supposed to be in a museum or a library. Everyone is supposed to be able to see them. Not just the chosen ones.”

Something in the way Alec looked at her resembled approval. He didn’t say anything, though, only guiding them to the bar. Alec got himself a beer and pink-colored drink for Clary. 

“Don’t drink it,” he warned the moment Clary was about to take a sip. “DuMort has a minor Epic at her service injecting the alcohol with truth-inducing serums. It makes you more susceptible to speak the truth when prompted.”

Clary had heard of this minor Epic. The Soul Sword, they called her. She was not incredibly powerful by herself but her presence made people she touched be compelled to speak the truth. She could probably infuse that same power on things. Clary played with her drink and focused on something else. “I asked you a question.”

For a second, Alec looked confused. But then he blinked, remembering. “They are people who were invited but aren’t coming,” he said, though his attention was clearly somewhere else. Alec was really terrible at pretending to be Clary’s date, that was for sure. 

Frowning, Clary wouldn’t let that stop her. “That’s not very specific. How can you be sure? Could people recognize us?”

Alec rolled his eyes. “And here I thought your friend was the one that wouldn’t shut up.”

“Alexander,” Magnus’ voice sounded in Clary’s earpiece. He sounded too amused for the reproachful tone he was trying to convey. “Play nice, darling.” Magnus snorted when Alec just rolled his eyes. “Mr. Monteverde and Miss Branwell are otherwise occupied tonight, Biscuit,” he explained. “We’ve made sure of that.”

“In a non-lethal way,” Luke added, probably because of the horrified gasp that escaped from Simon. “Sleeping drugs in the wine they shared before coming here. They are safe at home.” Luke’s voice turned more serious, “Everyone, stay on mission. Locate the real DuMort.”

“And look fabulous while doing it,” Izzy said with a chuckle. Her carefreeness made Clary feel more at ease. She even noticed the smallest of smiles on Alec’s lips. Those were usually reserved to Magnus, but would occasionally happen when Izzy was involved as well. 

Alec offered his arm to Clary again and they walked around the room together. It was getting easier to ignore the high heels and the weirdness of the situation, so Clary focused on the mission. She had DuMort’s likeness memorized. Gorgeous and thin, the High Epic had pale Asian features that she enhanced with dark and loud makeup. She was known to prefer red tones of dresses, so Clary started from that as she scanned the room.

A gasp escaped from Clary’s mouth and she grabbed Alec’s sleeve. “I see her,” Clary whispered, indicating a woman talking to a group not much further from where they stood. The woman’s long black hair fell loosely down her shoulders and it moved as she laughed. She was petite, even fragile-looking, which contrasted with the hard metallic materials of her dress. Still, she moved with confidence, every movement demanding the attention of those around her. In a way, she seemed to glow a little.

Just like a powerful illusion would. 

Alec looked to where Clary had pointed out. To her surprise, his first reaction was a short nod. “Magnus?” Alec called with a hint of worry in his voice.

For some reason, the response took a while to come. But it did. “She doesn’t look a day older,” Magnus whispered so quietly, Clary felt like an intruder to have listened. Beside her, Alec tensed up. Still, Magnus continued as if he had snapped from a shock. “That is definitely one of her illusions,” he said. The traces of softness in his voice were gone. Their mission had officially started. 

Maia jerked up at her side of the room. “Found another one,” she said, leaning towards Izzy as if she was whispering something in her ear. “By the main window.”

Clary had enough time to locate another copy of DuMort standing by the window, her slim figure dressed in the same manner as the first copy she spotted, before she heard Jace’s voice. “Two more. One by the door and one talking to a server next to the kitchen entrance.” He sounded annoyed. “Sparks, she’s everywhere.”

“That is precisely what she wants you to think,” Magnus said. “There is always a trick up her sleeve. Pay attention to the glow of the copies. That is not body glitter.”

After a soft chuckle, Clary put herself to work. She counted around a dozen copies of DuMort in her line of sight, but all of them had that almost undetectable glow to them. Or, at least, she thought so. The lights had dimmed so people would start to dance and it was getting harder to be sure. 

Although, Clary noticed something else. No matter what each copy was doing, DuMort never interacted with anything or anybody. Some were holding glasses, yes, but they never let go of them. Because they weren’t real, only part of the illusion.

Grabbing Alec’s sleeve again, Clary turned to him. “I know how to identify the real one,” she whispered in a rush. “The gl-”

“Alec!” Jace warned through the communicator at the same time that Magnus tried to say “Alexander!” and Izzy cursed. But it was too late.

“Why, hello,” a sweet voice said from behind them and Clary felt the skin behind her neck crawl. She and Alec turned to see DuMort standing there. Her smile was pleasant but there was a glimmer in her eyes that look manic. Clary could see the predatory aura around her, the one that every Epic carried with them. “You two are new.”

Alec smiled, showing all teeth. It was a weird thing to see on him. “Just moved in. It’s our first night out since the,” Alec cleared his throat, “wedding.”

Really? No one was going to buy that, especially with the strangled tone Alec used. Clary fought an urge to cringe. She tried to think of something else to say to remedy the situation, but all she could focus on was the glass in DuMort’s hand. It looked so real. 

Somehow, DuMort giggled at that and nodded. “That is so adorable. And you make such a beautiful couple.” She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Welcome to the city. Don’t forget to report to my office on Monday to be assigned to new jobs, both of you. We are always looking for new blood. Enjoy the party.” With that, she put her glass down on the table nearby and turned away.

Clary’s eyes shot open and she reached for Alec’s sleeve yet again. This time, though, he dodged, throwing a nasty glance at her. “Stop that, Fray.”

Desperately, Clary pointed at the discarded glass. “It’s her! The real one, holding a real glass!”

That wasn’t the most articulated explanation Clary had ever given, but, to Alec’s credit, he didn’t question her further. If Clary was right - and she had to be - they needed to act quickly. Isolate DuMort and use her weakness against her, to make sure she could be harmed. Alec took a step further. “Excuse me, Miss-?”

“Miss?” DuMort chuckled and turned back to them. “Aren’t you sweet? You can call me DuMort.”

“Right.” Alec swallowed hard. He looked slightly panicked as if searching for something to say. Magnus’ voice sounded in their communicators again, calmly instructing Alec to get DuMort away from the crowd. It was a risk, but the music probably masked the buzz of the communicators. Alec mastered his expression again. “Those books back there; I’ve never seen such a vast collection. Are they just for show?”

Smart. They knew there were libraries from studying pictures of the inside of the building, though they weren’t accessible to the general public. DuMort smirked secretively. “The truth is, dearest, those are just empty shells. The real books are all the way back inside, safe from lesser appreciative Epics. Can’t risk destroying them all, can we? Same thing with the paintings. Mere copies.”

“Could we see the originals?” Clary asked and then forced out a smile. “When I’m not in the office, I like to try my hand in painting a little. It would mean the world to see real art again, Miss DuMort.”

It was always a gamble to ask something out of an Epic. DuMort could have them killed right there and then if she so wanted to. Annoying her would lead to much more than just a failed mission; it would mean their lives. 

Thankfully, though, DuMort nodded. “Of course! Come with me.”

“That is too easy,” Magnus said through the communicator. “Be careful, Alexander. You too, Biscuit.”

The warning made Clary’s heartbeat race, but she quickly followed when Alec started walking. Out the corner of her eyes, Clary could see Maia and Izzy watching. She knew the others were watching too; Luke and Simon from the safety of the van, and Jace and Magnus from somewhere in the building. Alec had assured Clary he could get his rifle and pistols out at any moment, even though he wasn’t carrying them. She was as safe as she could ever be in a world where Epics existed. And, yet, Clary realized she was still afraid. 

Afraid and tired of feeling that way.

They arrived at the library after a couple of minutes of silence, in which the only sounds were Clary’s and DuMort’s heels clicking against the wooden floor. Clary urged to hear anything else - the voice of one of the Reckoners in her ears, one of Simon’s quips - but she knew it was too risky. She just kept quiet and walked instead. 

Until they reached the library and DuMort gestured for Alec to open the door. “Here you go, dearest. Books and paintings; the real deal.”

Alec frowned and exchanged a look with Clary, but he knew he couldn’t refuse an instruction from an Epic. He opened the door carefully, as if expecting to set off a trap by doing so. It didn’t happen, though. Instead, the doors opened to the largest room Clary had ever seen. Shelves of books populated the enormous space while the walls were covered in paintings of all sizes. 

“Wow,” escaped from Alec’s lips. “That is a lot of books.”

DuMort chuckled. “Indeed.” She walked up to them and Clary had the distinct feeling of being measured up. Where were the others? They had DuMort alone. All they needed was to surprise her now and put a bullet in her head.

“One thing I love about books,” DuMort continued as she stopped in front of one of the shelves, fingers almost touching one of the covers, “is just how much information they contain. Even fiction brings something to the table. So much to learn, so much to know.”

Beside Clary, Alec clenched his teeth. He too must have felt the change in the air. Whatever DuMort was doing, it was not just praising the knowledge in books. There was something more to it, something dangerous. She smiled again. “Another thing I love about books is that they don’t lie.”

Clary felt her entire body freeze. Oh, no.

“Now,” DuMort cocked her head to the side and looked straight at Alec. Clary heard the click of guns and suddenly three Shadowhunters appeared from behind the bookshelves. “The Reckoners are all so very righteous and well-planned. So, tell me. What should I do with liars?”

Everything had shifted so fast, Clary was having trouble keeping up. Alec had pulled his hands up and he started to repeat that he was okay and unharmed, as if that would help. Luke was shouting orders to the others and Simon urged Clary to run, but the guns aimed in her direction made that a stupid option. There were other noises too, the sound of strong wind and the buzz of the Shadowhunters’ radios.

“Leave them be,” Magnus’ voice sounded over everything else but, strangely, it didn’t come from the communicator. A second passed and then it made sense. Magnus stepped out from the shadow of a shelf, positioning himself behind DuMort. “Hello, Camille.”

DuMort gasped, turning completely toward him. The Shadowhunters seemed thrown off as well and two of them pointed their guns at Magnus. That was it, the window of time that would make DuMort vulnerable.

Magnus inhaled sharply. “Alexander, now!”

Clary had time to turn to Alec and see that he really had his rifle in hand. Alec aimed and pulled the trigger, but he wasn’t the only one. Clary was sure the Shadowhunters had begun shooting, though she never felt the bullets hitting them. Instead, all she saw were the three Shadowhunters fall to their knees as Jace and Maia appeared from behind them holding their own guns. As for Alec’s bullet, it hit the target; right in the center of DuMort’s heart. 

But, then, it passed right through it, finding a place in Magnus’ ribs.

DuMort snorted. “Oh, Magnus,” she sighed, “that was a nice try, dearest. But you’ve always been too easy to read. Better luck next time.”

And, with that, DuMort’s illusion disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys!
> 
> Who's ready for a lot of malec? Also, pain?
> 
> :D

Clary didn’t know if it was her that yelled, but she was sure someone did. Alec dashed to Magnus, whose face began to grow pale. Alec’s hand went straight to the bullet wound, trying to contain the bleeding, but Magnus slapped him away. 

“We have to find the real DuMort,” Maia said. “She must be in the building, watching us.”

Jace nodded. “Izzy, how are things on your end?”

“Surprisingly quiet in the figurative sense,” Izzy answered quickly. “The party is still going on and the music covered the gunshots. I’ll let you know if something changes but it seems like they are keeping things covered for now.”

Luke’s voice came next. “Good, stay sharp. The rest of you: this place is about to be swarmed with Shadowhunters. DuMort was expecting this attempt and she’s expecting us to retreat. If we do, it’s all over. Jace and Maia, search the rest of the library. Alec, take Clary and check the corridor. That illusion was too well-done. DuMort must be in close range.”

They all nodded, but Clary couldn’t move. All she could think about was the blood pouring through Magnus’ fingers as he held his injury. Alec was by Magnus’ side, but he didn’t touch him. For some reason, Magnus was still standing, looking more annoyed than in pain. Strangely, the color was coming back to his face and, when he opened his eyes, there was a ferocity to his gaze that scared Clary into looking away.

“Magnus,” Alec said, his voice shaking slightly, “I’m so sorry, I-”

“Go,” Magnus spat out. His annoyance had taken over him, leaving no place for discussions. “Leave me be.”

It was such a terse tone, Clary was taken aback. Alec, on the other hand, didn’t look particularly surprised. He pressed his lips together and nodded. Stepping aside, Alec turned to Jace. “Be unpredictable. Even the slightest of surprises can work as a weakness to her.” Then, he turned back to Clary. “Come on, Fray.”

Nobody glanced at Magnus, as if there wasn’t a bullet still somewhere in his torso. Even Luke didn’t mention it. Clary had no idea what was going on but she motioned to get close to Magnus. Someone had to help him-

Alec’s hand closed around Clary’s arm and he pulled her the other way. Clary had to ditch her heels in order to keep up. She heard the sound of something metallic hitting the floor, but Alec didn’t let her turn back to see what it was. 

Suddenly, they were in the dark corridor. It was empty, which was unnerving. Luke had been right; Shadowhunters would be on the way.

“Here,” Alec grunted, pushing a pistol into Clary’s hands. “If anything moves, shoot it.”

“What about Magnus?” Clary asked, but made a point of getting ready to pull the trigger at any point. It wasn’t her pistol, but she could make do with this one. 

Clenching his teeth, Alec stopped her as they reached a corner. “He’ll be fine,” Alec said after inhaling sharply. He seemed to count internally before looking over the corner quickly. “East corridor clear. Where the fuck are they?”

The cursing didn’t help to calm Clary down. It especially didn’t quench her questions. “Why did Magnus refer to DuMort by ‘Camille’? The way she spoke to him… How did they know each other? Were they… something?” 

If looks could kill, Clary would be dead twice over. Alec moved very fast and, for a second, Clary thought he was going to punch her in the face. Instead, he reached to her earpiece, ripping it away as he did the same to his own. 

“Listen carefully because I’m only saying this once,” Alec hissed, sounding just as dangerous as an Epic, “Magnus and she have a long history, from way before. And that is all you need to know.” He tossed the earpiece back at her, putting his own back as well. “Stop asking questions and start thinking. What else do you and your friend know about DuMort?”

From way before? Did Alec mean from before the Epics? That was roughly twenty years ago. Magnus couldn’t be much older than thirty, so how long ago could that be?

“Sparks!” Simon exclaimed. “That’s it! Light!” 

Clary felt her heart skip a beat. “Simon, you’re a genius!” She turned to Alec, who clearly was running out of any shreds of patience he still had. “DuMort primarily uses light to create her illusions. As in, she sucks the light out of wherever she is, making everything turn completely dark.” 

Simon’s enthusiastic voice shouted out again.“Exactly! To make an illusion like that one, she must be like a walking dark hole right now.”

“Sounds about right,” Magnus murmured and Clary was relieved to hear him again, even though his voice was rough and emotionless. “Look for shadows where there should be light.”

Like the corridor where Clary and Alec were. The lights had been up when they passed through it on the way to the library. DuMort had to be behind one of the closed doors that spread through the corridor. But if they started to open door by door, that would alert her. 

That was when an idea formed in Clary’s head. “Magnus!” She called. “Call for her! She did all this to get to you, so she’ll respond. Make her come to us.”

Alec looked at her with a bewildered expression, but he didn’t protest the plan. Which had to mean something good. The truth was, Clary had no idea if that was a plan at all. It was an improvisation and a bad one at that. But, if Magnus had been able to shake off a bullet wound, what was to say this couldn’t work?

Magnus seemed to agree. “That’s enough, Camille,” he said calmly but loudly enough that they all could hear him through the communicator. “No more games.”

Nothing happened for a while. But then, to Clary’s surprise, she could hear a faint chuckle buzzing in her ear that didn’t belong to any of the Reckoners. “I thought you liked a challenge,” DuMort’s voice sounded a little further away from the communicator. “Isn’t that what you always say, dearest husband?”

Clary blinked. “Husband?!”

Alec shushed her, paying attention to something else. “Quiet!”

“Don’t call me that,” Magnus said sharply. His voice was so clear, Clary could hear the disgust in it. “You divorced me, remember? The moment I became a burden to you, you tossed me aside and disappeared with all my money. Left me to wither away in that hospital bed.”

“Which you clearly didn’t,” DuMort said. Her voice, on the other hand, was faint. Almost muffled. “You look as handsome as always, my dear. Regeneration agrees with you.” She chuckled and that made Clary realize the voice wasn’t coming from the communicator but somewhere else. “It is regeneration, isn’t it? Or is it some other form of instant healing?”

Ignoring the words, Clary focused on the sounds. She could hear DuMort’s voice, which meant she was definitely close. Alec had picked up on that too and he moved with Clary as she retreated into the corridor.

Magnus didn’t answer, but that didn’t discourage DuMort. She chuckled again. “Doesn’t matter. I knew you’d come for me. Although, you took your sweet time with that.” DuMort sighed as if disappointed. “Still, I forgive you. After all, you and I are meant to be. We were before and we still are now. What else explains both of us becoming the monsters?”

“You were always a monster,” Magnus said. He sounded so sad, Clary almost took her earpiece out. Hearing Magnus’ side of the conversation felt like intruding. “And I refused to see it. You set up an illusion long before the Epics existed and I let myself fall for it.”

DuMort chuckled again and Clary had to refrain herself from gasping. The sound came from behind the door at her right. There were no lights at the cracks of the door, no indication that the room was occupied at all. 

Nothing but for a faint voice. “You were always so naive.” DuMort sighed again and the amusement was gone from her when she continued. “Now, get your little friends to go. All of them, the beauty in the party room, the two in the library, the ones in the van. Your new boy-toy and his red-haired pet. You stay and I’ll consider not telling the Angel what really happened tonight. I promise no Shadowhunters will follow them or bother us. You can trust me, dearest. Stay and your friends will be safe.”

The lack of response from Magnus’ side worried Clary. She looked at Alec, searching for a sign of how to proceed. That was when she saw the rifle in his hands, ready to shoot. There were no doubts in his face. So, she wouldn’t have any either.

“I-” Magnus began, but Clary didn’t stop to hear his answer. She took a step back and pulled all her weight as she kicked the door down. Someone gasped and, for a second, the light flickered, returning to shine inside the room.

That moment was enough for Alec to take aim and shoot the person staring at them. This time, his bullet hit and stayed at its target. The woman, who had been sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, fell down to the floor immediately. The lights in the room and corridor turned so bright, it was hard for Clary to discern exactly what she was seeing.

It took some adjustment but finally, Clary could see again. It had been DuMort and she was dead. But it was a different version of the DuMort that had talked to them at the party; that woman had been young and beautiful. The dead woman on the floor was old; still petite and well-dressed, still beautiful and definitely DuMort, but old.

Clary felt a breeze blow her hair away and then Magnus was by her side. His face was an unreadable mask as he stared at the corpse, his expression betraying nothing. The voices of the rest of the Reckoners buzzed in Clary’s ears, full of questions and exclamations, but not one of them answered. 

Not until Magnus brought a hand to his own earpiece. “It’s done,” he said in a hollow voice and moved a hand. The air behind him twisted in a circle and, before Clary could make sense of what was happening, it swallowed the three of them into nothingness.

\---

Some part of Clary’s mind knew she was in shock. It was the only explanation as to why she just stood there as she, Alec, and Magnus materialized back at the docks. Clary had no idea how that was possible. She even pushed aside how disorienting it was to be at one place and, in the next second, be at a different one. 

All she cared about was one thing. “Simon?” Clary asked, her voice failing her. She touched her earpiece, hands trembling in anticipation. There was no way of knowing what was happening in the Accord’s Hall. If the Shadowhunters had arrived, if anyone knew about what they’d done, if-

“That was insane!” Simon answered right away, cutting through all of Clary’s fears. “Are you okay?”

Clary let the breath she was holding out. “Yes! Are you?”

“Yup! On our way back! Izzy, Jace, and Maia are out too. Party is over but nobody is sounding any alarms.” Simon moved, catching his breath as Jace told him to scoot over. “I don’t think they know DuMort is dead. It’s so weird, like why did she only have three Shadowhunters with her? It doesn’t make any sense, she’s supposed to be smarter than this.”

“Shut up,” Magnus spat out. Clary turned to him, surprised by the icy tone of his voice. Her surprise turned to apprehension when Clary saw the anger in Magnus’ face. It didn’t feel human. “Do not talk about her, boy.”

Simon got the message and, for a moment, nobody said anything. The others were getting back and their hit had been successful. Nobody had gotten hurt and they were able to escape the Shadowhunters. Still, Clary didn’t feel safe. She didn’t feel happy or triumphant. 

She felt scared. And she felt scared because of Magnus Bane and the hatred in his eyes as he stared at her. “It was your plan,” he said, too calmly. “You had me draw her out of hiding. Smart, I’ll give you that.” Magnus took a step closer and suddenly, his right hand was glowing with a faint red light. “So smart.”

Clary took a step back, her fingers closing around the pistol in her hand. “Stay away.”

Magnus snorted. “Oh. Now you want me to stay away. Don’t have it in you to pull that trigger, Biscuit? You want to kill us all, don’t you? You’ve said it yourself.”

“Not you,” Clary whispered, feeling the tears in her eyes blurring her vision. That made the red light around Magnus’ hand shine brighter. Or Clary hoped it did. When Magnus took another step closer, though, she brought the pistol to aim at him. “Please, don’t do this.”

“Come on,” Magnus smirked and cocked his head to the side. “Take a shot. You know what good that will do.”

Clary inhaled sharply, trying to contain her tears. Her gaze lowered to Magnus’ torso, where the blood had dried on his shirt. The wound had been real, the blood was real. But she could see his skin underneath, smooth and perfect. Instant Healing. 

Prime Invincibility. 

Magnus put up two fingers, conducting the now bright red energy. But he didn’t release it; Alec stepped between the two of them. “Please, don’t do this,” he said in that low voice of his. “You’re scaring her. You’re scaring me.”

“Good,” Magnus said, his attention completely on Alec. “Maybe now you’ll understand why there is no hope for us, no matter what you say. Give up.”

Alec stood his ground. “No. Never. You don’t mean that. It’s not you saying that, it’s the darkness.”

A cruel laugh escaped Magnus’ lips. “Don’t you desperately want to believe that, sweet Alexander? Wouldn’t that be perfect? That fits your naive fairy tale, as if someone like me would ever truly love someone like you. You’re nothing but a pastime, darling. Something for me to amuse myself with for now. Temporarily, finite. Mortal.”

Clary didn’t understand what was happening. That man looked like Magnus, his voice sounded like Magnus’. But it wasn’t Magnus. It wasn’t the man with a gentle smile that complimented Clary’s drawings, the man with the attentive eyes that patiently listened to Simon’s ramblings. The carefree demeanor, the easy confidence, the unwavering support. It was all gone from him, leaving behind just a hollow shell of cruelty and mockery. 

And danger. So much danger. Alec’s attention went to Magnus’ hands, both of them glowing with the menacing blue lights. “Please, stop using your powers. It makes it worse. Cut it out.”

For a second, Magnus seemed to consider that. But then something ugly flashed on his face. “Why? So you can shoot me too? Like you did with Camille?”

Whatever Alec tried to say next, he never got to. Magnus moved, throwing the energy around his hands directly against Alec, blasting him into the air. Clary screamed, watching uselessly as Alec fell to the ground on his back. She heard a crack and the sound of her own breathing, but nothing else.

Magnus gasped, a strangled thing. Clary stared at him numbly, her mind blank of what to do. Magnus’ hands were shaking and all the red energy and anger were gone. He looked in shock, sheer terror coloring his face. “Ale-” Magnus tried, swallowing hard. Tears started to fall from his eyes. “Alexander…!”

Alec coughed, spitting up blood. He sounded like he was in a tremendous amount of pain, but he was still alive. Clary released the breathe she had been holding and the same realization spurred Magnus into action. He dashed to Alec’s side, kneeling next to him. 

“Alexander, can you hear me? I’m so sorry!” Magnus panted, his hands hovering over Alec’s torso as they shook uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t- I couldn’t! I’m sorry, I-”

Coughing again, Alec was able to move his face enough to look at Magnus. “I’m… okay. I’m okay.” He grunted, shutting his eyes closed. “Doesn’t… even... hurt.”

Magnus’ response was a soft snort, something he could barely control. Clary didn’t understand why, but Alec’s words seemed to give Magnus’ hand a purpose. Energy began to pulse through them again but this time it was blue. It made Alec moan in pain, but it didn’t seem to be harming him. It was healing him. 

Every time that Alec showed pain, though, Magnus’ power faltered. Magnus hesitated, frustration and fear coming back to his face. Clary clenched her teeth and ran to them, kneeling at the other side of Alec’s body. “Hey,” she said, looking at Alec’s pale face, “do you remember how many books there were in that library? That was crazy. What is, hm, what is your favorite book?”

Alec grunted again, but it sounded more like annoyance than pain. “Is that… the best you can come up with?”

Clary scoffed but she didn’t hide a smile when Magnus went back to using his blue powers. “I’m trying here. You suck at answering questions, did you know that?”

“Start asking better-” Alec grunted in pain but it didn’t sound too serious this time, “questions and I’ll answer them.”

“Alec!” Izzy’s worried voice came from afar and, when Clary looked up, she saw her exiting the van. The rest of the Reckoners had finally arrived. Izzy ran to them, kneeling at Clary’s side so hard, Clary was sure she had hurt herself in the process. Izzy didn’t seem to care, though. “What happened?!”

Clary looked over to Magnus, but he was too busy concentrating on healing Alec. She swallowed hard. “An accident, but Alec will be fine.” 

The others quickly circled them and Jace laid a hand on Izzy’s shoulder, trying to comfort her. Alec was looking better by the minute and Magnus had finally been able to control his tears. Things were going to be fine.

That was when Simon cleared his throat. “So, hm, are we supposed to ignore the fact that Magnus’ hands are glowing? That he’s an Epic?”

Surprising herself, Clary stood up and faced her best friend. “Not just an Epic. He’s a High Epic.” Clary turned to Magnus, who was staring at her with an expression that was hard to read. Still, she saw no hostility there. “You’re the Prince of Hell. The Epic that saves people.” Clary inhaled sharply. “The good one.”

Magnus didn’t say anything to that. He just sustained her gaze in silence. 

But Alec did. He grunted and moved to lean on one of his elbows. His free hand went to Magnus’ and he squeezed Magnus’ hand into his. “Yes,” Alec said, looking straight at Magnus with nothing but love in his eyes. “That’s him. The good one.”

\---

DuMort’s death hit the news on the following day. The city was put into a frenzy of fear and admiration. Or that was what Jace, Izzy, and Maia reported every time they came back from a round. Luke had sent them in to gather information and assess the general mood of the people. 

They couldn’t stay out for too long, though. With DuMort’s death, there were more Shadowhunters on the streets. A curfew was installed and anyone out after it was shot on sight. Anyone could be stopped and taken in for interrogation. The city was under a huge microscope and any nonconformity was repressed with disproportionate violence.

Still, in they went. “We need to know how the people take this news,” Luke had explained to Clary and Simon. “It won’t matter if we just take down the Angel; a new High Epic could easily take his place. But if the people are willing to take their city back, then there is still hope for change.”

Luke was right, of course. Clary hadn’t gone through all of that in her plan. All she wanted was revenge, to kill the man that had murdered her mother and destroyed her life. She never considered what that would mean to the rest of New York. If killing the Angel would make things better or worse for them. 

It had to make things better, right? Nobody could be as terrible as the Angel. But, then again, if someone as good as Magnus could act the way he did, what chance did the rest of them have?

“People will fight with us,” Simon said. He had been quiet the whole night but the morning had brought a new certainty to him. “The Reckoners just killed one of the most powerful Epics in the city. They know it was us, even if the Angel doesn’t let anyone say it out loud. They will rally behind us.”

“No, they won’t.” Luke narrowed his eyes though he wasn’t stern about it. “Because there will be no Reckoners for them to rally behind. We are killers, son. Not leaders. Whatever happens, when this is over, the Reckoners won’t be the ones leading the way. It is not our place.”

Simon didn’t seem terribly convinced, but he didn’t say anything. Clary knew for a fact her friend thought Luke would take over the city and become the Mayor. Simon probably hoped to see Luke taking care of everyone, not just the Reckoners.

Clary didn’t know how she felt about it. Luke was the best person she could think of, but only if he wanted to be in charge. If she was being honest, Clary didn’t like spending too much time thinking about that kind of stuff. It would be worth nothing if they couldn’t kill the Angel first. If they couldn’t keep everyone safe.

Sighing, Clary excused herself. She went back to the place where they all slept and found Magnus and Alec there, as she expected. Magnus had healed most of Alec’s injuries, but Alec still needed to rest. Izzy had examined her brother and determined that there would be no consequences, but she was sure he had broken his spine. The mind needed some time to get over the trauma even if the body already had.

“Hey,” Clary said quietly. She sat down by Magnus, both of them having a full view of Alec sleeping just a few feet away from them. 

Magnus had a book open over his lap, but he closed it when he saw her. “Hey, Biscuit.”

He sounded so soft, so welcoming. It was still hard for Clary to wrap her mind around that. It really was as if there were two of Magnus, completely different from each other. One was kind and patient. He got angry and annoyed, sure, and he was also passionate and witty. Human, in every sense of the word. Clary could see why Alec loved Magnus so much. But the other… The other was just angry, volatile. Cruel, even. He hurt without hesitation, maybe even enjoyed it. The other was the Prince of Hell, an Epic with no humanity left in him.

“How is he?” Clary whispered, trying not to stare. Alec looked so peaceful sleeping; no furrowed brow, no worried expression. He even looked slightly younger, like the young man he was supposed to be instead of the cold snipper he had to become.

Magnus blinked and he didn’t shy away from looking at Alec. “Better. But he didn’t want to go to sleep.” He shook his head, smiling. “Stubborn as always, which is a good sign. He’ll be on his feet by nightfall, barking orders and rolling his eyes.” 

That made Clary smile too. “We can always count on him for that.”

It felt weird to be sitting by Magnus, talking to him so carelessly. Not because it was different from all the other times, but because it wasn’t. Clary had seen what Magnus could do, the kind of destruction he could cause. She felt more alert next him, her guard up, even if only at the back of her mind. But it was still Magnus. 

He cleared his throat and Clary was surprised by the misery she saw in his eyes. “Clary, I owe you an apology. For what I said, for what I almost did.” Magnus inhaled sharply. “I’m very sorry.”

Clary felt something stuck in her throat. She wanted to tell Magnus that he didn’t need to apologize. She wanted to tell him that she was sorry too, that it was okay. She even wanted to apologize for saying that she wanted to kill all Epics. But she couldn’t. It wasn’t true and it wasn’t fair.

“Thank you,” Clary said instead, feeling awkward. She knew Magnus felt that way too but he was way better at dealing with it. Magnus just nodded and returned his attention to his books after throwing one more glance at Alec’s direction.

He didn’t get much further in his reading, though. Simon showed up at the door, looking as uncomfortable as Clary felt. “Hey, hm, Magnus? Luke is calling for you. Maia found a contact or something and Luke wants to go meet with them right away. Like, portal-style right away.”

Magnus’ shoulders went stiff but he didn’t protest. Slowly, he put his book down and stood up. “Will you look after Alec while I’m gone?” Magnus asked Clary and smiled gently when she nodded. “Thank you.”

As soon as Magnus disappeared through the door, Simon let out a huge sigh. “This is so weird.”

“So weird,” Clary agreed and scooted over so Simon could take Magnus’ place.

“I don’t even know how to act around the guy.” Simon arched his head backward, leaning against the wall. “I feel like everything changed but- it hasn’t? Not really? Everyone is just acting normal, going on missions, talking all high and mighty and stuff.” Simon looked back at her. “They kill Epics but they… They fight alongside one too.”

Clary frowned. “ _We_ kill Epics. We’re part of the team too.”

But Simon shook his head. “No, you are. I’m just the scrawny nerd that sits by the leader saying funny things.” He rolled his eyes but then smiled a little. “You on the other hand… You were incredible, Fray. Kick ass. That plan to get Magnus to draw out DuMort? Sparks, that was genius.”

“Only because you remembered the light thing.” Clary smiled and put up a fist for Simon to bump. “We’re a team, Lewis. A package deal.”

Simon’s smile grew into a grin and he indulged her. “That’s right.”

“Can you guys go make out somewhere else?” The grogginess in Alec’s voice wasn’t enough to cover up his annoyance. Clary looked up to find him glaring at them from the bed. “I’m trying to sleep.”

Clary felt Simon perking up next to her, but she was done being afraid of Alec. Not after everything they had been through. Besides, she had promised Magnus she would look after him. Although she wasn’t sure why Clary wanted to keep her word to him. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Alec couldn’t dismiss her more clearly if he had told her to leave him alone. He seemed to realize how rude that sounded, though, because then he moved to sit up in the bed. “Thanks for asking.”

Simon blinked, looking impressed by the progress. Clary was too. “The others are all out on a recon mission. Magnus-” She hesitated for a second, wondering how Alec felt about Magnus now that the worse had passed.

Worry colored Alec’s face. “What about Magnus? Is he okay?” 

That was enough of an answer. “Yes, he’s fine. He asked me to look after you.” Clary cleared her throat after realizing how ridiculous that sounded. “Not that you need me to, of course.”

Before Alec could say anything, Simon just spat out, “How can you do that?”

“Do what?” Alec frowned.

Clary knew the answer before Simon even opened his mouth. She cringed. “Date an Epic,” Simon said, half accusatory, half confused. “How can you be with him?”

Even if she knew that was coming, Clary couldn’t help herself. “Simon!”

To his credit, Simon looked a little ashamed of himself. He blushed, shrinking into his shirt. But he didn’t stop. “It’s just… It’s different from the girls that have to do it. The people that the Epics make date them in general. Magnus isn’t forcing you, is he?” Simon looked at Alec, which was an accomplishment considering just how much his voice was shaking. “Be-because, if he is- We won’t let him. We’ll help you. I don’t care if he blasts me too. I-I’ll help you!”

For the longest moment, Clary was sure Alec was going to murder Simon. There was this furious and outraged look in his face and the temperature in the room seemed colder. Or maybe it was just the chills at the back of Clary’s neck. 

But then Alec narrowed his eyes, looking straight at Simon. “What do you know about Epic’s weaknesses?” He asked in a smooth, incredibly calm voice that didn’t match his eyes.

That wasn’t what Simon was expecting to hear. He cleared his throat and thought about the question. “Hm, every Epic has a weakness that is tailored to them,” Simon started and Clary recognized his words from what they had written in their research. 

“They are completely random,” she chimed in, trying to help. 

Simon nodded, relief washing over his face. He gained a little confidence. “A weakness can be anything. An object, an emotion, a situation. Epics don’t usually know what their weakness is until they are confronted by it. When that happens, the weakness numbs the Epic’s connection to their powers, making them human again. If you know an Epic’s weakness, even a High Epic’s weakness, you can kill them.”

It was as exhaustive as it got. Clary was pretty satisfied with Simon’s answer.

Alec, not so much. “Wrong.”

The bluntness made Simon frown. “I’m pretty sure I’m not. I mean- yeah, just knowing the weakness isn’t enough to kill them. You have to be able to use it. But, aside from that, everything I said is c-”

“Epics are humans,” Alec interrupted, no patience left. “They are not aliens, or gods, or monsters. They are humans.” He moved to lean his back against the wall. “And their weaknesses are not random.”

“Of course they are,” Simon fixed his glasses on his nose. “Being attracted to someone? Being surprised? Bare feet?” His voice went a little higher on the last example. “What do you call that if not random?”

“Aldertree’s fiancée suffered from a severe form of bipolar disorder,” Alec explained, not as patiently as one might expect, but still. “She was having a manic episode when she grabbed a kitchen knife and accidentally cut him bloody. In her guilt, she killed herself while he was recovering in the hospital. The man was a jerk and he blamed his attraction to her for all the suffering he had.” 

Alec continued when neither Clary nor Simon said anything. “When DuMort was nineteen, a fortune teller told her she would live a long and prosperous life, but that it would end all of a sudden. There was nothing she could do to stop it. I don’t know why the Vampire was afraid of bare feet, but Izzy thinks it had to do with the first time he was arrested. He killed someone and he was staring at the victim’s feet when the cops found him. The image must have stuck with him thereafter.”

“Fear,” Alec said finally. “That is what the weakness is; something that represents what each Epic fears the most. Fear of love, of dying, of being locked away.” He stopped, staring at nothing in particular. “Fear of losing the person they love the most.”

Clary knew then that Alec was talking about Magnus. She realized that both Simon and she had looked away as soon as Alec had said that. But he wasn’t done. “The weakness doesn’t just stop the Epic from using their powers. It also stops something else. The powers come with a price; a sort of darkness. The more an Epic uses their powers, the stronger the darkness gets. Sooner or later, it consumes the Epic until they become something else. Whatever attacked me yesterday wasn’t Magnus. It was that darkness.” Alec looked at Simon. “And that’s why I can be with Magnus. Because I know who he really is and I don’t care about his powers. I care about him.”

The way Alec said it, as if daring Simon to say something back, was just as powerful as Magnus’ energy blasts had been the night before. It was impressive really, how similar they were. Even though Alec was just a normal person and Magnus was… 

Magnus was Magnus. 

Simon seemed to agree. He nodded, still looking a little afraid of Alec, but with something else in his eyes too. Admiration, perhaps. “Guess Clary and I should update our database with that, hm?”

“Good thinking,” Alec said and then laid down again, turning his back on them. 

And that was the end of the conversation.

\---

Luke and the others were back a little after sunset. Alec had woken up for real by then and he and Jace went to check on the Reckoners’ armory. A sort of boys-only activity for the night. To Clary’s surprise, Jace invited Simon to tag along and Alec didn’t protest. That had to be progress.

Meanwhile, Izzy dragged Clary to hang out with Maia and her. They were in charge of dinner that night, though Maia had gotten a frozen pizza. All they needed to do was heat it up once everyone was hungry. That gave them plenty of time to just sit down and talk while Luke and Magnus disappeared into Luke’s private room.

“They are figuring out our next move,” Maia explained when she caught Clary staring at Luke’s door. “The Angel is furious about DuMort’s death. He had Malachi tighten security, so there are Shadowhunters everywhere in the city. An infestation.”

That didn’t sound good but Izzy seemed unfazed. “Things are finally getting interesting now. Before all we did was kill Epics. Every mission was the same.” She smiled cheerfully. “I feel like we’re actually making a difference this time.”

“So, you’re not angry for playing scout anymore?” Maia teased only to make Izzy chuckle dismissively.

“I was angry for being underused. But it’s fine.” Izzy smirked at Clary. “That was your night to shine. How did it feel? Your first mission and you killed it!”

It felt weird but Clary wasn’t going to say that to Izzy. It was the thing about her; Izzy made everything feel less serious than it really was, less urgent. Life felt like a game, one that Izzy was sure she would win. Clary wished she could see things like that. It wasn’t a game to her; it was real and, sometimes, overwhelming.

“I’m glad I had Alec with me,” Clary said eventually. “You guys make it seem easy but it isn’t. For someone like me, this stuff is impossible.”

Maia shook her head. “You’ll get it in time. It’s hard for all of us, especially at the start. But you have to remember why you’re doing it. What drives you. Remembering that makes things easier, whatever it is. Think about that.”

A part of Clary knew she was supposed to feel ashamed. The reason she was doing it was revenge, on the Angel, on the Epics as a whole. But she didn’t feel ashamed, they deserved it. They had hurt too many, done too much evil. Although, now that she knew about the darkness… She wasn’t so sure all of them did. Maybe some of them were like Magnus. 

One thing Clary was sure of, though, the Angel wasn’t. He was just evil. Clary didn’t have many memories of her father from before he became an Epic, but she knew he hadn’t been a good man even then. That was all that mattered.

“You know, I’m glad you were there with Alec too,” Izzy said, plucking Clary out of her own mind. She sounded different than before, softer. “It’s not Magnus’ fault but… I’m happy they weren’t alone yesterday. So much time passed since the last time something like that happened, we all forget Magnus isn’t as in control as we wish.”

Clary pressed her lips into a thin line. “How did they… get together? I wanted to ask Alec but I don’t think he would answer me.”

Maia snorted at that. “He definitely wouldn’t. Not much of a sharer, that guy. Magnus would, but he’s kind of out of it these days. Seeing DuMort couldn’t have been easy.”

“He’ll get over it,” Izzy said with a shrug. She made herself comfortable on the box she was sitting on. “First time we ever saw Magnus, we were just kids. He saved us from an Epic, back when the government still existed. He just portaled in and saved me, my brothers, and my mother. The whole thing lasted for a couple of minutes, tops. But that was when Alec got into his head that the Epics could be good too. That was also when he realized that we needed to know how to protect ourselves from the ones that weren’t.”

“Smart,” Clary commented and Maia nodded in agreement.

“We went into hiding for a couple of years,” Izzy continued. “Mom got us some guns and we taught ourselves how to use them. When Jace heard about the Reckoners, we got inspired.” She chuckled. “We killed our first Epic on Alec’s nineteenth birthday. A year or so later, we met Luke and he let us join the team. Maia was already in it.”

Shaking her head, Maia tried to suppress a smile. “You guys were insane. They just went for it, no fear, barely a plan. It’s a miracle your arrogance didn’t get the three of you dead.”

Izzy laughed that off. “No miracle, it was all Alec. He kept Jace and me in check. But we really were reckless back them, taking all kinds of stupid risks.” She turned her attention back to Clary. “We were with the Reckoners for about eight months when we saw Magnus again, totally by chance. He didn’t recognize us at all but Alec knew who he was. The good Epic, the one that saved our lives. Remember that?”

“Like it was yesterday.” Maia sighed. “Alec pestered Luke about recruiting Magnus for weeks. Every group meeting, every shared meal, even during missions. He’d always have a comment to make. The guy was unrelenting. But Luke would always say no. The Reckoners didn’t fight with Epics, we killed them.”

“After months of that, Alec went behind Luke’s back and tried to recruit Magnus himself.” There was pride in Izzy’s voice as she talked, which was the only reason Clary believed her. Alec? Defying Luke’s rules? Yeah, right. “Magnus was so shocked, he forgot to kick Alec’s ass. I don’t know what Alec told him, but I guess the offer intrigued Magnus.” 

Izzy winked at Clary and put one finger up. “He didn’t take it, at first, but he agreed to help us with one mission.” She smiled wider, putting more fingers up. “Then another. And then another. Over the course of a year, or maybe more, Magnus would sometimes be there, sometimes not. I think that was when they fell in love. What I know for sure is that one day my brother kissed him after they both almost died on a mission. After that, Magnus stayed for good.”

So that was how it happened. Magnus had saved Alec and then, years later, Alec returned the favor. Clary was sure of it; in all her research there were no records of Epics being good. Only the Prince of Hell, and even his good deeds were rare and sporadic. At least, until a few years ago. There was a spike in appearances of the Prince in which he saved people. That was probably during the year he was helping the Reckoners on and off. 

And then, the Prince of Hell disappeared. He became just Magnus. Whatever effect Alec had on him, it was enough to have Magnus hold onto his humanity. 

“Do you think other Epics can control themselves as Magnus does?” Clary asked, suddenly.

Maia and Izzy exchanged a look. Izzy shrugged but it was Maia that answered. “Theoretically, yes. But I wouldn’t hold my breath. Magnus’ weakness helps to keep him in check. Stops him from hurting those he loves. He cancels himself, in a way.”

“I see,” Clary said quietly. She brought a finger to the dust that covered the floor, doodling the shape of Magnus’ face. 

It paled in comparison to the real thing. Magnus walked out of Luke’s office, phone in hand as he typed. When he looked up, he smiled at them and approached. “Sorry to interrupt your girl time, darlings, but we have a new move. We should get the boys here.”

That made the three of them perk up. “What are we doing now?” Maia asked.

Magnus seemed to debate whether to tell her right away or to wait. His phone beeped and Magnus took a look at the screen. “We have an audience with the Seelie Queen.” He smirked, looking at Clary. “She wants to meet you, Biscuit.”

\---

Clary had heard of the Seelie Queen - everyone had. She was an Epic, though little was known of her powers. Instead, what everyone knew was her weakness: lying. It was such an anomaly for an Epic to divulge their weakness like that, most people thought it wasn’t true. Clary always appreciated the irony of it.

The reason why everyone knew the Seelie Queen didn’t lie was because the Epic had made sure of it. The Seelie Queen used her weakness as the very foundation of her business. After all, there was no better informant than someone who couldn’t pass over false information. 

And that was what the Seelie Queen offered: information. She traded in it, never getting too involved with anyone. Epics or regular people, anyone that had something of her interest could go to her. Or, rather, anyone that had something of her interest could request an audience. Whether the request would be granted or not was entirely up to her. 

Apparently, Magnus had scored an audience with the Seelie Queen by mentioning Clary’s involvement with the death of DuMort. Magnus had made it look like Clary was behind the plan that took the Head of Information down. According to him, their original plan had failed and it was Clary’s quick-thinking that saved them. That had piqued the Queen’s interest in her.

Clary didn’t know how she felt about that. Simon’s praises made her feel proud of herself. Her suggestion that Magnus talked to DuMort was what made Alec and Clary find the Epic. But Clary didn’t want to take credit for a plan that pushed Magnus over the edge and almost had Alec killed. Still, Magnus was the one that framed it that way and with Luke’s blessing. If that worked for the Reckoners, Clary would play along. With DuMort out of the picture, whoever controlled the flow of information was a step further. They needed to seize the opportunity. 

Though, that didn’t mean Clary wasn’t feeling nervous. She wished Simon had been allowed to come with them. Luke had selected Magnus and her, of course, but had vetoed Simon when he asked to tag along. The mission was too sensitive and Simon wasn’t trained enough. 

To Clary’s surprise, the last person to join their group was Jace. According to Izzy, it made sense: you always wanted some muscle when entering the Seelie Court. Clary wasn’t sure what to make of that. 

Not that she had much time to think. The four of them woke up before sunrise, to avoid the morning patrols, and hopped on the van. Clary didn’t know how the Reckoners knew so much about the Shadowhunter’s schedules, but they were able to get out of the city right in between shifts of the patrol. 

Luke and Magnus took turns driving and Clary was too sleepy to process what exactly was happening around her. All she knew was that the Seelie Court changed locations constantly and, this time, it was located somewhere just outside of Boston. It would be about five hours before they reached it. 

So, Clary slept through almost all of them. Being in a car had a soothing effect on her and it wasn’t hard to curl up on the seats and close her eyes. She didn’t remember any dreams when she finally woke up, the sun shining on her eyes. 

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Jace said when Clary sat up. “We’re almost there.”

What was it about the Lightwoods that made them all seem so confident? Izzy had talked about how reckless they had been as teenagers, but she had left off how charming they all were too. Both Izzy and Jace were naturally attractive with their smirks and shining eyes. Alec had a different sort of nature, but one that also commanded the attention of everyone in the room. An entire family of stars.

Clary looked over to the driver’s seat and saw Luke focusing on the road ahead. Magnus was sound asleep in the passenger seat, covered by his spiked jacket. Turning back to face Jace, Clary found him sprawling over the back seats of the van. “Have you ever been to the Seelie Court?” She asked.

Jace arched an eyebrow at that. He probably wasn’t expecting Clary to actually talk to him. “Yes,” Jace said carefully. “One time. It was a nasty experience.”

“Nasty?” Clary asked in surprise.

“The Court is interesting enough, no doubt,” Jace explained, though he sounded as blase as they get. “But the Seelie Queen? Just… Be careful with her. Just because she can’t lie, it doesn’t mean she can’t twist the truth. Take everything she says with a grain of salt.”

That sounded like smart advice. Clary frowned, realizing something. “The Reckoners work with a lot of Epics, don’t they?”

Shrugging, Jace made himself even more comfortable on the seats. “Guess that’s how life works nowadays. But you’d know it better than anyone. You’re more obsessed with them than Alec is, and he’s the one dating an Epic.” 

“I’m not obsessed with Epics,” Clary protested but only earned a sneer from Jace. “I hate them!” She winced and looked back, but found Magnus still sound asleep. “Most of them.”

Jace really didn’t seem convinced. “You hate Epics, but your entire life is dedicated to them.” When Clary was about to protest again, he continued. “I’ve seen your research. You spent all your time studying Epics, learning about their abilities, drawing them. You could’ve easily just lived your life and became a famous artist somewhere. Rich folk pay fortunes to have their portraits made nowadays. Instead, you’re here with us.”

“Because I want revenge. I want to take down the man that killed my mother,” Clary said, though her heartbeat was racing slightly. It was disturbing to have a virtual stranger talk about her so accurately. 

If Jace noticed her discomfort, he didn’t show. “And then what?”

“What?” Clary asked, confused.

“Once you kill the Angel, what’s next?” Jace narrowed his bi-colored eyes at her. He was all light where his siblings were dark. None of the black hair and brown eyes of Izzy, not even hazel eyes like Alec’s. Jace was blond and his eyes were blue and honey. “Have you ever thought about what you’ll do once the Angel is gone?”

Clary hadn’t but she wasn’t about to tell Jace that. She was sure he’d smirk with satisfaction and Clary would rather be punched in the face than watch that happening. “Maybe I’ll become a famous artist and paint portraits of rich people. I heard it’s a very lucrative way of living.”

Jace smirked nonetheless but, surprisingly, it wasn’t in a way that made Clary’s blood boil in her veins. “Too bad. I think my siblings are getting used to having you and your nerdy sidekick around.”

“Simon is not my sidekick,” Clary corrected him defensively. “And both of us are nerds.”

Laughing, Jace pulled both hands up. “Hey, I like nerds. I’m even dating one.”

Clary’s jaw fell open. “Wait. Maia is into geeky stuff?”

“Comic books, old movies, and video games. You name it.” Jace nodded. “She’s even into superheroes. You know? The fictional ones from old movies and TV shows? She makes me watch all that stuff. As you can see, I’m not one to discriminate. Don’t sweat it.”

That was all completely new to Clary. She had seen the old superhero stories, of course. Every child had. But she couldn't quite picture Maia and Jace on a movie date, enjoying a full-out hero versus villain fight. 

The van slowed down until Luke fully stopped the car. “We’re here,” he said calmly, no different than a father letting his family know they had arrived at a park. 

Which made sense, considering the huge forest in front of them. The only piece of green this huge Clary had ever seen was Central Park and only in passing. But this wasn’t just a park. It was a whole forest. 

Magnus opened his eyes slowly, deliberately. The sunlight made his brown eyes shine almost in gold. Sighing, Magnus turned to look at Clary and Jace. “Ready to meet the Queen?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Clary answered and realized it wasn't a complete lie. 

\---

The Seelie Court turned out to be the remainings of a forgotten cottage in the woods. Most of the walls of the house had been taken down and nature had made its way into the place. Clary had never seen such a beautiful thing: all the structures were covered by vines, green patterns dancing on the remaining structure. The floor was grass and wood made into one. It was so unlike anything Clary had ever seen before. Magical in ways she wasn’t sure was possible.

As they walked in, though, Clary noticed that the ethereal sense to the place served for more than just show. It hid things, such as two guards who awaited them at the entrance. Clary startled when they walked out of the shadows, menacing spears in hand. She was the only one, though: Luke, Magnus, and Jace all seemed to have expected it. 

A heads-up would’ve been nice.

“No weapons inside the Seelie Court,” one of the guards said. He was tall and handsome, with a gold tone to his skin and elvish features. Clary particularly liked the blue streaks in his long dark hair. 

She was so caught up in staring that Clary almost missed it when the others started to take out all of their guns. Luke had a pistol and a dagger with him while Jace carried his double pistols, two daggers, and a throwing knife. Magnus only had his smirk, which he was sporting. “Long time no see, Meliorn.”

“Magnus Bane,” the guard acknowledged with a nod. 

In a rush, Clary got rid of her own pistol and knife. She wondered if she should’ve disposed of the pieces of crumpled paper and charcoals in her jacket’s pocket, but everyone was already moving on. They weren’t weapons, but it still felt wrong to bring them in. 

She didn’t have time to dwell. Clary rushed to join the others as they passed by the guards. As she grew accustomed to the surroundings, Clary started to discern the rest of the people already inside. There weren’t many, just four more people. Three of them were children, dressed in rags and worn out clothes. But they weren’t dirty as Clary would expect. The clothes could be old, but the children were clean and well-fed.

The fourth person was another guard. That made three of them just in the cottage. Clary forced herself to remember the research on the Seelie Queen. She wasn’t a High Epic, not in the usual sense. No Prime Invincibility. But she was powerful in her own right. Nobody wanted to risk her fury, not even the Angel. Much less the Reckoners.

“My Lady,” Luke said, bowing respectfully. There was another child that Clary hadn’t paid much attention to. That had been a mistake. Now that she was looking at the young girl, Clary recognized her from the blurry pictures and whispered descriptions. 

The Seelie Queen could manipulate her own age. That was why she looked no older than twelve as she smiled. “Luke Garroway. It is a pleasure to see you again. Your presence was missed during the last visit from the Reckoners.”

Luke nodded. There was a formality to him that Clary hardly recognized. “My apologies. I had important business to take care of. Still, I was told the meeting went well.”

“Had it not, you and yours wouldn’t be welcomed in my Court.” The Seelie Queen looked at the others, eyes brushing over Jace to stop at Magnus. “I heard rumors the Prince of Hell had returned from the underworld to kill again. Is it true?”

Magnus clenched his teeth, his posture growing stiff. It only lasted for a second, though. Magnus smiled gracefully. “I was involved, as per usual, in most of the Reckoners’ assassinations.”

“So she really is dead.” The Seelie Queen looked genuinely surprised. “Camille Belcourt. DuMort. Whatever the name, it must be a great loss. How long have you known her for?”

“Seventy and five years, give or take.” Magnus sighed. “Too long.”

What? Clary blinked a few times, her jaw dropping in surprise. At her side, Jace muffled a chuckle. As Luke explained how DuMort’s death came to be, Clary took the opportunity to pull Jace by his sleeve. “How old is Magnus?” she whispered.

Jace shrugged. “I don’t know. About a hundred? No- Izzy wouldn’t have wasted the opportunity of a party if he was a century old. But something close, for sure.”

A hundred years old, or close enough. It must be his regeneration powers that kept him from aging. But did Magnus choose to freeze himself as an adult? The face that he wore couldn’t be older than thirty-five. Clary’s mind was exploding with questions. 

That was probably why she barely listened to the conversation going on around her, until she was mentioned by name. “- was Clary’s. She came up with the assassination plan,” Magnus said, laying a protective hand on Clary’s shoulder.

She wished he didn’t. Suddenly, the Seelie Queen’s entire attention was on Clary, scrutinizing her from head to toe. She didn’t seem particularly impressed, so Clary cleared her throat. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my Lady.” Clary looked around, her gaze going to Luke for guidance. He nodded, encouraging her. “I’ve heard, hm, great things.”

“And yet,” the Seelie Queen answered, her tone neutral, “I have not heard of you, child.” She turned back to Luke. “Had I known you were back to recruiting, I could’ve sent you some promising faces.”

Luke just shook his head. “That is kind of you to offer, but I am not. Clary came to us and I recognize talent when I see it.”

The words filled Clary with more pride than she could express. However, the Seelie Queen’s steel gaze fell upon her again, washing away the warm feeling. “The mind behind DuMort’s assassination fought her way into the Reckoners. You are more than what meets the eyes, then. An Epic expert and an ingenious assassin. What else should I know about you, child?”

“She can draw,” Jace said almost flippantly. 

Clary shot him a glare, but then realized what he had done. The Seelie Queen was getting too interested in her. It wouldn’t take long until she started asking about Clary’s part, about who she really was. That was a piece of information they didn’t want her to know. 

The Seelie Queen arched an eyebrow. “An artist too. Would you be so kind as to draw a portrait of me?”

“Oh,” Clary exclaimed but nodded when Luke did. “Of course!” 

She pulled the charcoal and pieces of paper from her pocket, but one of the children approached Clary with a sketchbook. Flushing, Clary accepted it and mimicked the little boy as he sat down a few feet away. 

Drawing the Seelie Queen was an experience in itself. The only live model Clary had ever had was Simon. Most of her drawings came from her memories, her impressions. She could make realistic portrayals for the research, but the truth was that drawing helped Clary see through things more often than not. 

But now… Now she drew what she saw, no longer just an impression in her mind. Clary studied the girlish face, the way the Seelie Queen frowned when Luke finally stated what information they were looking for. They wanted to know the Angel’s weakness. If anyone would know, it would be the Seelie Queen. 

Or maybe not. Clary frowned as a hint of amusement flared in the Queen’s eyes. They were usually so impassive, so unmoved. But now, they shone with interest. “Isn’t that what everyone would like to know?”

“If anyone can answer that,” Magnus said diplomatically, “we were hoping it was you, my Lady. As an exchange to the information on DuMort and the new member of the Reckoners.”

Diplomatically but also demanding. Magnus wasn’t playing, they had paid the price and now they wanted the information they were looking for. With DuMort out of the picture and the city plunged into chaos, this was the time to strike. But, in order to do so, they needed that advantage against the Angel. Without it, they couldn’t even draw a real plan against him without raising his precognition powers. 

The Seelie Queen stared at him, completely unperturbed by Magnus’ words. “You forget yourself, Prince of Hell. DuMort’s assassination is what granted the Reckoners this audience. The rules of the Seelie Court still stand. You make a request and pay the price. Only then you may get the information you desire. Or you may get something else entirely.”

“Do you even know his weakness?” Luke asked, all pretense politeness ignored. There was a slight shift on the Seelie Queen’s expression, almost too subtle to be noticed. Clary frowned, sketch finished, and tried to make sense of it. “We won’t pay the price for something you cannot provide.”

“Sooner or later, every Epic reveals his or her weakness.” The Seelie Queen’s expression went back to her normal aloofness. “Even the Angel himself.”

Clary held her breath. She didn’t know, this had been a waste of time. Worse, now the Seelie Queen knew that Clary was a part of the Reckoners, she knew how DuMort had been killed. She even knew the Reckoners were after the Angel. It had been a calculated risk, revealing their interest in him like that. It would be worth it if they walked out with his weakness. But they wouldn’t and now they were in serious danger.

Adding a few more lines to the drawing, Clary stood up. The sudden movement silenced the room as Clary walked up to the Seelie Queen, stopping right in front of her. “You’re right, every Epic reveals his or her weakness. And when we find out what it is, the Angel will fall.” 

The Seelie Queen smirked, opening her mouth to respond, but Clary didn’t let her. “A revolution is coming and there are only two sides to choose from. You can be on the right side with us.” Clary gestured to Luke and the others. “Or you can be on the wrong side. With my father.” She waited a moment and then handed the drawing to the Seelie Queen. “That was the side DuMort chose. She chose wrong.”

The Seelie Queen’s eyes shone with understanding, the information Clary had disclosed finally sinking in. Her expression was one of triumph, of knowing she had just hit the jackpot. The Angel’s daughter. Now, that was a secret worth a fortune.

But then, the Seelie Queen looked down at the drawing and the satisfaction washed out of his eyes. It was Clary who smiled now watching the Seelie Queen stare at the image of her dead self, a bleeding bullet wound on her forehead.

All indifference left the Seelie Queen’s expression. In its place, there was only anger. “Defiance will lead you to your end, Angelborn. Now, leave my Court,” the Seelie Queen turned to Luke, “and never dare to return.”

\---

“I’m sorry,” Maia said, barely capable of keeping her voice in a normal tone. “You did what?”

Clary crossed her arms against her chest. She didn’t understand why everyone was making such a big deal out of this. Had she done nothing, their visit to the Seelie Court would’ve been a complete disaster. “I did something, okay? She was playing us. She doesn’t know what the Angel’s weakness is and she was going to take everything from us and give us nothing in return.”

The logical argument fell flat on Maia’s ears. “So you decided to tell her you’re the Angel’s daughter? That’s how you stick it to the Seelie Queen? By giving her even more information she can use against us?”

Groaning, Clary looked at Simon for back up. Unfortunately, he seemed to be siding with Alec and Jace. All three of them had decided to stay out of the discussion while Luke and Magnus discussed the repercussions of the visit to the Seelie Court.

Well, stay out of it might not be the best description. The moment they arrived, Jace had told the others what had happened. He didn’t even wait so Clary would have a chance to explain herself. Alec’s face immediately turned pale, as if he couldn’t quite process what his brother had said. Then, pure anger took over him. Clary was pretty sure whatever progress they’d made to becoming friends had been undone on the spot.

But it was Simon’s response that most disappointed Clary. He too didn’t understand why she had done what she did. They were supposed to trust each other, to support one another. Still, Simon had looked at her with fear in his eyes. It had never happened before, not even when they kids and Simon learned who Clary’s real family really was. He had never been afraid of her.

“Okay, so maybe Clary made a mistake,” Izzy interfered keeping her voice calm. “We’ve all screwed up before. Besides, we don’t know for sure if the Seelie Queen will sell off the fact that Clary is the Angel’s daughter. She’s been helping us for years. That’s more than what you can say for most Epics.”

Maia shot Izzy a glare. “Oh, we know that for sure. That is exactly the type of thing she will sell off. She helps us when that helps her. Now she knows we’re moving against the Angel. Which side do you think she’s going to choose?”

Izzy was ready to answer, but Clary didn’t let her. She could fight her own battles. “That was exactly why I told her. I want her to leak that information.”

The statement was met with stunned silence. Maia blinked. “I’m sorry. You _want_ the Angel to know you’re alive? Didn’t you say the Demon has some of your hair? If they know you’re alive, they are definitely going to use that to locate you. To locate all of us!”

Clary nodded. “Yes, they will. But it’s not the Angel that will come. It’s going to be Jonathan.”

A look of confusion took over Maia, but Simon understood Clary’s point right away. Unfortunately, he didn’t like it. “Sparks, Clary! You can’t be serious. You really think your brother is going to be on your side? After all these years?”

“Yes!” Clary frowned, surprised at Simon’s tone. “My brother is not a monster, Simon. He saved me before.”

“And now he’s literally known as the Demon,” Jace pointed out, rather unhelpfully. “He’s not a victim of the Angel, Clary. He’s the executioner.”

Out of allies, Clary was growing desperate. She turned to Alec. “Not every Epic is beyond salvation You know that better than anyone else. Jonathan is still there, somewhere behind all the darkness. He has to be.”

“Do not compare Jonathan to Magnus,” Alec spat but then inhaled sharply. He looked to the others. “There’s no point in discussing why Clary did what she did. Either way, we know the Demon is coming and that gives us an advantage.” 

“Alexander is right,” Magnus said, walking out of the kitchen with Luke right behind him. “Reckless or not, Biscuit’s move will most likely work in luring the Demon to us. That gives us better odds of defeating him than if he had come unannounced. Besides, if we take the Demon down, it will be that much easier to get to the Angel.” Magnus clapped loudly, rubbing his hands against each other. “So let’s get to it. Who has any ideas?” 

Finally, someone was seeing things as Clary did. The others could doubt that Jonathan would be on their side, but at least Magnus and Alec saw how useful her bet had been. Clary didn’t expect that Jonathan would just drop all the years under their father’s influence out of the blue, but she knew there was good in him still. If she could draw it out, then the Reckoners would be that much stronger.

And Clary, well… Clary wouldn’t be completely alone by the end of their mission. She would still have her brother. She would get him back.

Still, even if Magnus could see eye-to-eye with her, he was not on Clary’s side. She didn’t blame him; preparing to fight the Demon was no small feat. Especially since Magnus had clearly way less faith in Jonathan than Clary did. But she would change their minds in time.

Starting effective immediately. Clary cleared her throat. “I don’t know about ideas, but I know the Demon’s weakness.” She let that sink in and smiled when even Simon looked at her in confusion. Clary turned to Alec. “I didn’t, not until you explained that the weaknesses are something that represents the Epic’s deepest fear. In Jonathan’s case, that’s a plate of pasta.”

“What?” Jace asked, his voice going one octave higher. “The Demon’s weakness is Italian food? Why?”

“Not any Italian food, no. The pasta our father makes.” Clary rushed to where she had left her backpack and fished her tablet out, looking for the file on the Demon. “I didn’t see my father often, but I remember that the one thing my mom refused to let me eat was pasta with tomato sauce. It reminded her of my father and what he used to cook whenever he wanted to manipulate her into forgiving him. He did that once to me, when he forgot to pick me up at school. He showed up hours later and told me it was because he spent so much time cooking for me. I remember that Jonathan didn’t eat that night.”

Clary stopped when she found her brother’s file. She ran her eyes through it, easily finding the report she was looking for. “Here it is. The Demon has killed many people, I won’t deny that. But whenever people talk about him, whenever people dare, they bring up the fact that he once killed a chef just because he didn’t like the food that was served. That food was pasta.”

Simon’s jaw dropped. “So, it wasn’t a random act of cruelty! It was an Epic protecting himself masked as a random act of cruelty! Wow, that’s layered.” 

“Okay, we can work with that,” Alec said, completely ignoring Simon’s comment. “Can I see the Demon’s file?”

Nodding, Clary handed him the tablet. As Magnus and Izzy joined Alec in examining the information, Luke walked up to Clary. “Can we talk outside?”

It was weird that he didn’t want to be a part of the planning, but Clary figured Luke trusted his team. He didn’t have to be present for every step of the way. It was inspiring how tight the whole group was. Everyone had a role, something they did best, and that made everyone integral. But that wasn’t the reason they worked so well together. It was something else, something special. 

Once they were out of the restaurant, Clary turned to Luke with a smile on her face. “So, what is it?”

“We will finish this mission and kill the Angel,” Luke said, but he was not smiling. “And then, you are out of the team.”

A cold wave washed over Clary and, for a moment she was too stunned to speak. “What?!”

“You heard me. I will not have a liability on my team.” Luke didn’t appear angry, not even disappointed. It was just practical, a simple evaluation. “You only think about yourself, about what you want. It doesn’t matter to you who you risk, who you endanger. I will not have it.” 

Clary was so surprised, she could barely believe what she was hearing. “No, I don’t!” Her voice wavered with both fear and guilt.

But Luke was unmoved. “You put Magnus under more than he could handle and that almost cost Alec his life and Magnus, his conscience. You insulted the Seelie Queen, costing us our best informant. And now, you got the most violent Epic in the city on our trail on purpose. I don’t care if you get results, I will not risk my team like this. Their lives are more valuable to me than your revenge.”

Tears formed on Clary’s eyes and she couldn’t stop herself from shaking. Still, there was nothing she could say to defend herself. The more Luke spoke, the more she realized he was right. She hadn’t thought of the others when improvising. She had only thought of her mission. Of her desire to kill the Angel. 

Shame stopped Clary from asking for a second chance. Instead, she swallowed her tears and nodded. “Okay,” Clary said, clenching her teeth. 

Luke nodded, considering the conversation was over. He turned back to the restaurant, walking away. As with anything else in the Reckoners, his word was final. There would be no changing his mind, especially because Luke was right. He always was.

Still, Clary called for him. “Luke?” She waited until he had stopped and looked at her. “I just… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt or endanger anyone.”

“I know, kiddo,” Luke answered and, for the first time, he sounded sad. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another huge thank you to my incredible beta, [j_writes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/j__writes/pseuds/j__writes). 
> 
> I can be found on [Tumblr](https://ketzwrites.tumblr.com/) and on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ketzwrites). 
> 
> Kudos, comments, and tweets are more than welcome!
> 
> Ketz


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ready for the last part?
> 
> I don't think so.

Clary stared at her brother, her eyes fixated on his slim and sharp features. Jonathan had high cheeks and a severe aspect to him. He seemed older than his twenty-one years. His platinum blonde hair made him look more dangerous too, inhuman even for an Epic. Clary wished she could see his eyes but Jonathan was still unconscious, so they were closed. 

The Demon’s most known power was appearance duplication. He could mimic the appearance of anyone he put his eyes on. For years, Jonathan had worn the face of one Sebastian Verlac. For the longest time, that was the face Clary thought of when she remembered her brother. But it wasn’t Jonathan’s real face and the farce was exposed when a rival Epic killed Sebastian thinking it was the Demon. After that, Jonathan had used the faces of many other people.

But this man uncomfortably tied up to a chair in front of Clary was the real Jonathan Morgenstern. Not an illusion to hide in the crowd, not a mask to get closer his target. That was her brother’s face. The plates of pasta all around him confirmed that.

Izzy stepped beside Clary. Her beautiful face appeared next to Jonathan’s, a reflection on the wall of glass that separated them. 

“Are you doing all right?” Izzy asked, her arms crossed. She still had a gauche right over her left eyebrow, where one of the Shadowhunters had hit her during their attack. That man was now dead. There weren’t many human casualties, miraculously, but Clary supposed that someone that tried to mess with Izzy’s face deserved to die. 

Clary still couldn’t believe their plan had worked. It had been too daring, even for Clary’s standards. Instead of waiting for the Demon to find them, they had gone to him. Attacked him where nobody could expect: right at the heart of the Institute.

She sighed and looked at Izzy. “I don’t know. I don’t want to keep him there but I understand why we need to. It’s just- It seems cruel.”

Clary didn’t know why she felt so comfortable telling Izzy the truth. If it was Simon, she could understand. But telling anyone else that? A Reckoner on top of it? It didn’t make sense. 

And still, Clary didn’t feel like she should stop. Not when Izzy smiled sadly at her. There was no other possible answer. If they didn’t keep Jonathan in containment, the only other alternative was killing him. That was definitely worse. As is, this was the best solution to a plan that shouldn’t have worked but did.

The attack had happened the night before. Using Clary’s research and the Reckoner’s experience, Alec and Luke had put together a three-phase plan to take the Institute away from the Angel. That would lure the Demon to the only place that could hold him. The Institute was a state of the art building, one of its kind. No other place in the world had the kind of monitoring technology that the Institute had. Nowhere else would they find cells like the one Jonathan ended up in. 

The Institute had only one physical weakness: it was powered by a central energy generator. Clary supposed whoever built it guessed nobody would be reckless or competent enough to attack it. A group formed by regular people wouldn’t be able to pass by the security. A regular Epic wouldn’t pay attention to the human guard of the city. It was a weakness that they could afford.

Or could’ve if the Reckoners didn’t have a way in: their informant. Clary had finally learned who Luke had been contacting during their reconnaissance missions. His name was Hodge Starkweather, an official in the Angel’s payroll. The man was corrupt enough to take bribes. As long as the Reckoners paid him well, he was willing to open a backdoor or two. Double that price and he could even send them images of where the generator was held.

Those images were all Magnus needed to open a portal directly inside the heart of the Institute.

The first phase of the plan was simple. While the rest of the Reckoners forged a direct attack on the Institute - a move that wouldn’t earn the attention of major Epics, besides Malachi, Alec and Magnus went for the energy core. All they needed to do was to turn it off for a couple of minutes; enough time for all the defenses to go down. 

That was when the second phase started. The aggressive repression after DuMort’s death had hit intolerable levels of violence. Even the rich people were being submitted to random searches from the Shadowhunters. At some point, the scale of fear and anger had tipped and Luke’s insistence in monitoring the mood of the city had paid off. Once the Reckoners had led the first wave of attacks and the defense mechanisms were disabled, it was just a matter of incentive before the repressed and fed up population acted. 

People came pouring in. Simon had been right, they followed the Reckoners when the Reckoners gave them the chance to. And Luke had allowed that to happen despite it all.

All of this confusion served to start off the third and last phase of the plan: capturing the Demon. In order to do that, they took advantage of Jonathan’s ability to manipulate fear. His mere presence incited it. Reports said it was impossible to look into the Demon’s eyes. The few who tried swore his eyes were inhumanly black, two sockets of darkness. 

That wasn’t true, of course, but it was a testament to how powerful the Demon was. However, this power worked better on smaller numbers and under the right circumstances. It wasn’t a coincidence that Jonathan was the Angel’s assassin, not his entire army. He couldn’t incite fear on a crowd, only in targeted groups.

Usually, that helped with quick hits on a specific foe, but there were too many people inside the Institute. Once a group of civilians started to flee, the Reckoners knew not only that the Demon had arrived but from where he’d come. 

With that and the use of pasta, it wasn’t long before the Demon was surrounded and neutralized. Clary had been excluded from his capture, but Luke had promised her that Jonathan wouldn’t be killed. She had stayed behind with Simon and Izzy while the others did the disarming. 

In the end, it was just a matter of time before the Reckoners had chased away all the Shadowhunters and taken over the Institute. Once Magnus and Alec had turned the power back on, the building went back to being virtually impregnable. 

And so, there Clary was. Face to face with her brother at last. 

“What do I say to him when he wakes up?” Clary asked, her voice smaller than she’d like. 

Thankfully, though, there was no judgment in Izzy’s eyes as she answered. “You say hello. He’s your family, despite it all. I’m not going to pretend to know how it feels to have an Epic for a sibling, but I have three brothers. I’d love all of them no matter what.”

Clary nodded. “But it’s been so long. What if he doesn’t recognize me?”

Izzy smiled at that, amused. “I don’t think anyone could ever forget you, Clary.”

That puzzled Clary but she didn’t get a chance to ask what Izzy meant. Jonathan moved, slowly waking up. He pulled his chin up and Clary was finally able to see his eyes. Gray and hard, like everything else about him, but also sad. Jonathan looked right through Clary and Izzy, the security glass making it impossible for him to see them.

Clary’s heart skipped a beat. She took a step forward to the glass, her hand open to touch it. But Izzy stopped her. When Clary turned to her, Izzy shook her head. 

“Let’s get the others,” Izzy said. She pulled Clary’s hand down but didn’t let go. “I know you want to talk to him, but it might be too dangerous now. Let Luke have a go first.”

“What happened to loving a brother no matter what?” Clary asked, not bothering to hide the anger in her voice.

Izzy threw a suspicious glance at Jonathan. When she looked back at Clary, though, there was only concern in her eyes. “Love him, Clary, but do not trust him. Not so easily.” She pulled Clary away from the cell. “Come on. Luke will want to hear about this.”

Clary frowned but didn’t push back. She looked at Jonathan and a cold shiver ran down her spine. He looked so cold, so untouchable. He was awake, but he sat so still, he didn’t look alive. And his eyes… The sadness was gone, replaced by something much more sinister. Loathing.

“Okay,” Clary whispered and let Izzy guide her away from her brother. “Let’s get the others.”

\---

Luke and Magnus stood in front of Jonathan. Behind them, Maia and Jace had their guns ready and pointing at Jonathan’s chest and head, respectively. They were all inside the cell while Izzy stood guard outside with Clary and Simon. Alec was upstairs; he was in charge of the Institute, monitoring for the Angel’s counterattack while the others interrogated Jonathan. It hadn’t come yet, but it would.

Not that Alec was missing much. Luke and Magnus had been drilling Jonathan with questions, all of them to do with the Angel, but he had only stared at them blankly, his expression and posture betraying nothing. To all their questions, Jonathan had only one answer.

“I want to see my sister,” Jonathan said again when Luke asked if he had any hidden powers beside the three known ones.

“Your sister is dead. You killed her years ago.” Magnus’s voice was just as flat as Jonathan’s. They had decided to pretend Clary wasn’t a part of the Reckoners for the time being. Maybe the Seelie Queen had told Jonathan the truth, but they didn’t need to. “Cooperate and this will be over. Why hasn’t the Angel sent any reinforcements to take the Institute back? Where is he? What is the Angel’s weakness?”

Jonathan just stared at Magnus, almost as if he couldn’t see him. “I want to see my sister.”

“Come on, boy,” Luke said. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Start talking.”

“I want to see my sister.”

Jace was the first to break. He rolled his eyes in annoyance. “This isn’t going to work. He’ll never talk. We’re wasting our time.”

Clary agreed. Jonathan clearly wanted her in there, so they should be playing into that instead of pretending Clary wasn’t there. If she could only talk to Jonathan alone, she might be able to get some answers from him. But it was out of the question. Luke didn’t want Clary in the same cell as Jonathan, let alone speaking to him unsupervised. He judged she was too biased when it came to her brother.

Maybe Luke was right, but Clary still thought it would be more productive than what they were doing. Anything would. She turned to Izzy, who also looked frustrated with their lack of progress. Maybe she would listen. “Let me in there. Jonathan will speak to me.”

Izzy just shook her head. “No.”

“Come on, Izzy,” Simon pleaded as well. “Just for a little while. That has to be better than what they are doing in there.”

But Izzy remained unmoved. “No. I’m sorry, guys. Alpha’s orders.”

Clary shot a thankful look at Simon either way. Inside the cell, frustration was also taking its toll.

“Let’s give him some more time to think,” Luke declared. He gestured for the others to leave. One by one, they left the cell until there was only Luke and Jonathan inside. 

Clary watched as Magnus, Maia, and Jace walked out of the lateral door. She ran to Magnus, Simon right on her heels. “Let me in there. I can make Jonathan talk.”

“I’m sorry, Biscuit, not yet,” Magnus said calmly, laying a gentle hand on her arm. A gentle hand that stopped her from coming any closer and getting in Jonathan’s line of sight.

Behind them, Maia kept the door open for Luke. He wasn’t done talking to Jonathan. “Think about your position here, Demon. There are no more Shadowhunters. DuMort is gone. Malachi is defeated. You’re next. But if you prove yourself useful, you can have a different fate.”

With that, Luke exited the cell. As he did, Clary watched Jace get out of the way and Maia held the door for him. As soon as Luke passed by it, Maia started to close the door. Clary shot Simon a look and he nodded.

They acted together. While Clary got rid of Magnus’ hand and dashed by everyone, taking advantage of their surprise, Simon pushed Jace aside, tumbling upon Luke on his way out. Maia was the only one that offered any resistance, but by then it was too late. Clary had already closed the door and Jonathan had seen her. Simon was probably barring the door from the outside, so nobody followed Clary inside. 

The only way someone would get Clary out of there was if Magnus portaled inside and physically removed her. Clary hoped he wouldn’t. Taking a deep breath, she turned and faced her brother.

Jonathan was already looking at her. He had a weird expression on his face, a mixture of emotions though none seemed quite right. Happiness, sadness, reverence, hatred. Surprise and expectation. Everything and nothing at once.

None of them said anything. Until Alec did, through the communication channel. “Sparks, Fray.” Unlike Clary and Jonathan, Alec seemed to be feeling something very specific: annoyance. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Her name is not Fray,” Jonathan said finally and Clary could feel the revulsion in him, “it’s Morgenstern.”

“No, it isn’t,” Clary shot back. She looked up, to one of the cameras. “Just let me talk to him, Alec. Alone.” She looked through the glass wall and, even though all she could see was her scared expression, Clary knew the others were watching. “Please.”

For the longest time, nothing happened. Clary didn’t know if they were discussing her request, if anyone was arguing in her favor or if Luke was just declaring that she was out of the Reckoners even before they had gotten to her father. Clary hoped not. She hoped someone would see her side, maybe Izzy or even Magnus-

The locks on the door clicked closed. “You have five minutes, Fray,” Alec said in a smooth, controlled tone. “Make them count.”

Clary nodded. Finally, she looked at her brother without distractions. Jonathan smiled, cocking his head to the side. “I got your message, little sister.”

He had to be talking about the Seelie Queen. Clary took a step closer. “Does the Angel know I’m alive?”

Jonathan’s expression grew confused. “Why would he? Clary, he’d kill you if he knew that. Like he killed mother.” Jonathan shook his head in apprehension. “He can never know you’re alive. Never.”

Startled, Clary realized her hands were shaking. She didn’t know why but neither did she know why it was so hard to speak. “You didn’t come to kill me,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. Tears began to form in Clary’s eyes but she forced them back. “You really didn’t.”

She had been right. Her brother was not a monster. He was like Magnus, plagued by a darkness that forced him to be bad but still a person. Still good inside. 

“Of course I didn’t come here to kill you, silly,” Jonathan said with an amused expression. He smiled fondly, staring at her with love in his gray eyes. He shrugged. “I came here to kill the Reckoners. Once I do, you and I can escape to somewhere father will never find us. Run as far away as possible.”

Clary’s heart stopped. She felt the floor disappear beneath her feet. “What?”

“Untie me, sister,” Jonathan gestured to his hands with his chin. “I can protect you, but I need you to get rid of these plates first. It was very smart of you to figure out my weakness, but this is a great inconvenience.”

“No, Jonathan,” Clary said, walking up to him. Everything was getting out of control. “The Reckoners are my friends. They are helping me. They will help us. We are going to kill the Angel, I promise we will. You don’t have to be afraid of him anymore.”

All the lightness left Jonathan’s face. “I’m not afraid of him, Clary. I hate him.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “I want him dead too, but he cannot be killed. Believe me, I tried. He knows you’re coming. He always knows.”

Clary shook her head. She was close enough to touch Jonathan, but she didn’t. “That’s why we need to know his weakness. Once we have that, we can trace a plan to kill him.”

Jonathan stared at her quietly. His eyes were empty when he sighed. “He has no weakness.”

“Every Epic has a weakness,” Clary said stubbornly.

“Not him,” Jonathan said, though he sounded bored. “Give up, Clary. The only way to escape him is running away.”

Clary blinked, too dumbfounded to believe what she was hearing. No. Jonathan was the key to get to the Angel. With his help, they would finally be able to kill Valentine. Jonathan even wanted him dead. Clary refused to believe her brother had given up on that. 

“Then why haven’t you run away?” Clary spat out. “You can come and go as you wish. Why didn’t you use that to go as far away from him as possible? Why did you stay here?”

Jonathan opened his mouth to answer but didn’t say anything. He just looked at Clary, eyes narrowed. There was something in his expression that Clary couldn’t quite decipher, but she didn’t want to. Not anymore. 

The communication channel beeped before Alec’s voice came in. “Time is up. Get out, Fray.”

Nodding, Clary moved to the door. She waited as it unlocked but, before opening it, she looked back at Jonathan. “I’m glad we could talk, big brother,” Clary said quietly, “but I’m sad to know you became a coward.” She sustained Jonathan’s gaze when his eyes hardened. “I will kill our father with or without you. Help me or wait in this cell: it doesn’t matter. Just know it will be done.”

Clary walked away and didn’t look back.

\---

Three days passed before the Angel’s response came. When it did, though, it was devastating. Hoards of Shadowhunters assaulted the city, massacring the people on the streets. Every minor Epic on his payroll went out for blood. The streets were flooded with blood, pain, and screams. In one day, over a thousand people died. 

The Reckoners could only watch as they fought for their lives. The population was being terrorized, but the Institute was the main target of the counterattacked. Had it not been constructed to withstand Epic’s powers, the building would’ve fallen. Their team was stretched thin defending it, though nobody more than Magnus. He was popping in and out of rooms, bringing help and orders, fighting off the Epics that broke even the Institute’s defenses.

Once the fighting was done for the day, all the Reckoners reconvened at the control room. Part of Magnus’ right arm was reconstructing as Clary walked into the room, but at least he didn’t seem bothered by it. Alec was at his side and the deep cut in his temple worried Clary much more than Magnus’ wound.

Not that Clary didn’t have injuries of her own. One of the Epics that got into the building was just a little girl, innocent and cute to look at. Neither Clary nor Jace had the heart to shoot at her from their defensive positions. Jace tried aiming, but his finger never even brushed the trigger.

A big mistake. The little girl sucked the air out of the room, suffocating them both. Clary’s throat still hurt and she would’ve been dead if Magnus hadn’t portaled in and stopped the little Epic in time. One of the screens showed her still sleeping, locked in one of the rooms of the Institute. 

Clary wondered how many little girls like her died in the fighting. How many more would die the next day. 

She closed her hands in fists. “We need to strike. Move against him right now.” As she spoke, Clary realized she was shaking. “We don’t need a plan. We can improvise. The Angel won’t know what we’re doing because _we_ won’t know what we’re doing. It’s the only way.”

Nobody looked at her. Luke only shook his head, sounding tired. “You know that’s not how his danger sense works. The moment you figure out a plan to kill him, he’ll know it. Even if it’s just a second ahead.”

Simon’s weak nod shattered Clary’s heart. She looked around, staring at their exhausted faces. Maia sat down with Jace, her head laying on his shoulder. She fought off to stay awake but even that effort seemed to be too much for her. Jace didn’t fare much better; his eyes were hollow, not unlike Clary’s after almost suffocating to death.

Even Izzy looked drained of her usual energy. The wound from when they took over the Institute was almost entirely healed but now she had two scratches on her chin as well. Her makeup, usually carefully applied, was smudged and mixed with blood and sweat. She still managed to be the most beautiful person Clary had ever seen, but Izzy needed to sleep. Clary couldn’t deny her some rest, could she? Just enough to bring the light back to her face. The city could hold for that.

“We won’t survive another attack,” Magnus said solemnly. His arm was back to form, the toned muscles intact. If it wasn’t for the emptiness in his eyes and the holes in his clothes, one would think he was ready for another battle. One would be wrong. “I might but you all will perish. If it comes to that, I’m taking Alexander far away from here and not looking back.”

“Magnus,” Alec chastised him, but his voice sounded weak. They all knew it was the darkness speaking, bringing the most base, most selfish of Magnus’ desires to the surface. Clary smiled faintly as she realized that was protecting the man he loved at all costs.

Luke stared at his team. His expression was unreadable and the silence stretched longer than Clary could take it. Thankfully, Luke eventually ended it with a sigh. “We will survive tomorrow, just as we did today. Go to your rooms and rest. We will reconvene here in four hours. Then, we’re abandoning this place and retreating to our former base. They haven’t found it yet and, with the Demon locked up here, they won’t for enough time to figure out our next move.”

Clary supposed that was better than blindly hunting down the Angel. Not that she had any idea where he could be; nobody in the city knew where he slept. Rumor has it the Angel had at least ten different residences and that he never stopped at one for long. Other people whispered of an impregnable mansion at the heart of the city. There were still others who said he didn’t sleep, gods need no rest.

The last one was bullshit. Clary had seen her father bleed. He was no god.

Simon walked up to her as the others exited the room one by one. Magnus and Alec were the first to go, followed by Jace and Maia. Izzy stopped at the door to glance at Clary, forcing an encouraging smile. Clary wished she was close enough to hug her for it but Izzy just turned away and went to the room she had taken for herself. 

As Luke made no indication that he was going anywhere, so Clary decided to go with Simon. They had been sharing a room, just as they had as children. Neither wanted to be alone in the oppressive interior of the Institute, so that was good enough as a solution as any. 

On their way to the room, Clary stopped to look at her best friend. Simon had changed from the skinny thing he was. Carrying weapons all day with Alec and Jace had given him muscles and he didn’t slouch anymore. Clary searched in her memory and all she could recall was Simon and Maia laughing as he helped her prepare dinner or Simon tailing Luke around, learning how to hack computers with Izzy, and even hanging out with Magnus. 

Good. Simon would have a place among them when Clary was gone. He wanted to be a part of the Reckoners just as much as Clary did. He deserved to stay. 

“What is it, Fray?” Simon asked, smiling at her as they reached their room.

Clary shook her head and opened the door for him. “I’m just glad you’re here with me. I don’t think I could do this without you, Lewis.”

Simon smirked and threw himself at his bed, back first. “I don’t think you’d have much trouble fitting in. You know, with Izzy here to champion you.”

Feeling her cheeks burn, Clary kicked out her shoes and crawled onto her bed. She busied herself with putting her twin pistols safely away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right.” Simon chuckled, a weak but amused thing. He took his glasses off and closed his eyes. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Clary couldn’t help to laugh. “Whatever, Simon. Good night.”

Her response came in a light snore. Clary snorted and stretched to turn off the lights. Now that she was laying down on a comfortable, if not fluffy, bed, exhaustion finally took over Clary. She closed her eyes, feeling her body relax and her mind shut down. 

Until a shadow in the bedroom moved. 

Clary snapped her eyes open, a thunder of alertness crashing through her body. She looked at Simon, but he slept deeply. The room seemed quiet, so Clary wondered if it wasn’t just her tired brain playing tricks on her. 

She was about to relax again when, at the corner of her eyes, Clary saw the shadow move again. Someone by the door. Quickly, she sat up and turned on the lights, waking up Simon in the process.

By the door, Jonathan stood with his head cocked slightly to the side. He smiled. “Hey, little sister. Am I not invited to the slumber party?”

Clary opened her mouth to scream, but Jonathan was on her before any sound came out.

\---

Jonathan’s hand covered Clary’s mouth before she could scream. She struggled against him, aiming for the guns near the bed, but he was much stronger than her. Even when Simon flung himself over them, all Jonathan had to do was pull him away.

“Calm down, both of you!” Jonathan commanded, his voice angry. 

Simon was ready to attack again, but suddenly he stopped, his legs shaking too much. Clary didn’t have to ask why. Terrifying fear clenched its claws around her heart and Clary felt momentarily frozen. There was nothing she could do, nothing that would stop Jonathan at all. She and Simon were at his complete mercy. All they could do was tremble and beg for a painless death.

Once Clary had stopped moving, Jonathan sighed. The overwhelming fear left Clary, vanishing away. She was still afraid, but she could breathe again. Simon fell on his knees, gasping for air. 

Jonathan rolled his eyes and sat down beside Clary on the bed. “Oh, come on. I told you I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

“D-did you-,” Clary tried but stopped. She swallowed hard, recovering her voice. “Did you hurt the others?”

“No, I did not,” Jonathan said, elaborating every syllable. Then, he grinned. “I’m on your side, Sis.”

Clary frowned and her eyes met Simon’s. He too seemed confused, though considerably less freaked out. Jonathan looked from one to the other, waiting for a response. His grin grew forced, but he kept it as if the manic smile made him look less threatening. 

It really, really didn’t.

Simon cleared his throat as he sat down on his own bed. “So… You’re not going to kill any of us?”

“No,” Jonathan said, frowning slightly. Clary could see he was running out of patience, but a part of him was trying to stay calm. She hoped that part won.

“Are you sure?” Simon made the mistake of insisting.

Jonathan turned to him, the grin gone from his face. “I am but you might change my mind if you keep asking.”

“That doesn’t speak well for your resolve,” Simon spat out, more as a reaction rather than a well thought out plan. 

Clary decided it was time for her to intervene. “I believe you, Jonathan.” She reached out, touching his hand. “We can do this. We can defeat him. I promise you.”

Slowly, Jonathan turned to her. His face was just as sharp as before, all angles and lines, but they softened when he smiled. “Here, I have something for you,” Jonathan said and fished something out of his pocket. Locks of red hair. “I kept it.”

A strange feeling took over Clary. She didn’t know what to make of that. The rational part of her brain sighed in relief knowing that the Angel wouldn’t be able to locate her. But everything else felt weird looking at her child hair in Jonathan’s pale hands. She grabbed it. “Won’t he realize it’s gone?”

The answer made Clary regret asking. “Oh, no. I never gave it to him. I found some other girl with the same hair color as you, took her hair, and left the body behind.” Jonathan smiled, proud of his ingenuity even as a child. When Clary didn’t share his smile, he frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.” Clary swallowed down the bitter taste in her mouth. She forced a smile. “Does he have something to use to find you?”

“Not really,” Jonathan shrugged. His attention was on Clary’s hair still in her hands. He frowned and suddenly his platinum hair turned as red as hers. Jonathan smiled, satisfied. 

Clary decided not to say anything to that. “That’s good. I’m going to talk to Luke. The Reckoners won’t attack without a plan but, with everything that you know, Alec might be able to devise a plan that our father won’t notice.”

Jonathan chuckled, genuinely delighted. “That’s silly. No matter what you come up with, he’ll know. I’ve been trying to kill him for years. I’ve put poison in his food, in his clothes, in the air around him. None worked. I tried setting his room on fire, but he fled before the first flame caught. Of course, knives and bullets are useless, no matter how close you get. He feels even animals. Once I hid three scorpions in his bed. He knew about that too.”

Simon blinked. “Sparks, where did you even get three scorpions?”

That was beside the point, though. Clary clenched her teeth as the familiar hopelessness took over her. There was only one way to defeat the Angel. “Do you really not know his weakness?” Clary asked, even though she knew the answer. 

“No,” Jonathan said quietly. “Our mother did. I thought she told you.”

Clary shook her head. “Mom never talked about you and dad.”

She only realized her mistake when hurt crossed Jonathan’s face. He looked away and a humorless smile danced in his thin lips. “She really hated me.”

Wishing she could deny it, Clary reached out to hold her brother’s hand. “She was afraid of you. She didn’t- She didn’t understand. She didn’t know about the darkness and what the powers do to the Epics. If she had… I’m sure mom would understand.”

Jonathan didn’t seem completely convinced, but he said nothing else. Clary looked at Simon, a silent ask for help, but he just shrugged. There wasn’t anything to be said: even Clary hated the Epics before she met Magnus. Before she saw how much Alec loved him and how much Magnus loved Alec in return. She didn’t think that was possible, but they proved it was.

And, if that was possible, then Clary’s faith in Jonathan wasn’t misplaced. She inhaled deeply, decided to change the subject. “Anyway, we wouldn’t be able to use his weakness unless we get close to him. Magnus could get us there, but nobody knows where the Angel hides.”

That piqued Jonathan’s interest. “I do. He’s at home. He’s always at home when the city is under attack.”

“At home?” Clary frowned.

“The apartment we lived in as children, before the divorce.” Jonathan shrugged. “Father and I moved in after he killed Mother. He’s always there. The place didn’t change a thing; even your room is the same. He doesn’t let anyone touch it.”

Clary felt her heart skip a beat. Simon’s house was just a couple blocks away. She had been living less than two miles away from her father, from the very man she wanted dead. But it didn’t make sense. The Angel had dozens of properties all around the city; huge mansions, fortified and protected. Why would he be living in a small apartment?

“Guess when you literally feel danger coming there’s no need for a whole security team,” Simon murmured. “You can just hide in plain sight.”

Gasping, Clary held Jonathan’s hand tighter. “Are you sure he’s there? Absolutely sure?”

Jonathan nodded, but Simon didn’t seem to share Clary’s enthusiasm. “The problem is that Magnus needs to visualize where he’s opening a portal to. I guess we can just, you know, walk there. But avoiding the Shadowhunters and minor Epics on the streets is going to be tough. Unless either of you guys happens to carry pics of the living room.”

Clary smirked and climbed out of the bed. She grabbed her backpack from the floor and searched for a piece of charcoal. “Not a pic, no,” she smiled, “but close enough.”

\--- 

To say Luke was angry when he saw Jonathan freed was an understatement. Clary was sure Luke was kicking her out of the team the moment she, Simon, and Jonathan showed up at the control room. Honestly, the only thing that probably stopped Luke from doing it was the energy blast that Magnus immediately threw on Jonathan.

No questions asked, just a sphere of raw power to the chest. Jonathan collided against the wall behind before falling to his knees. He coughed and Magnus was ready for another shot, but Clary put herself between them.

“He’s on our side!” Clary said quickly, hands in the hair. 

“Out of the way, Biscuit,” Magnus spat, taking a step forward. Behind him, Alec had his rifle in hand. Everyone else also seemed ready to fight, though it was the sight of Izzy with a pair of daggers that made Clary’s heart clench in her chest.

She too took a step forward. “My brother is on our side! He told Simon and me where the Angel is. We can finally get to him.”

Magnus narrowed his eyes at that and Clary seized the opportunity. She picked up her drawing, showing it to him. “He’s in our old apartment. This is the living room. Jonathan says it’s exactly like it was when I lived there. Can you use this to open a portal?”

A moment passed before Magnus made his move. He lowered his hands, the wisps of energy disappearing as well. As he did, the rest of the Reckoners seemed to relax as well. All but Alec, who kept his aim ready even as Magnus approached Clary and took the drawing from her hands. She hoped Jonathan would have the sense of staying still; the slightest danger to Magnus would result in a bullet between Jonathan’s eyes, Clary was sure.

Thankfully, her brother didn’t move and Magnus seemed convinced. “This might be enough. But what if it’s a trap?”

“‘What if’?” Alec asked, his voice not much different than a snarl. “There is no way this isn’t a trap.”

Jonathan clenched his teeth. “It’s not. I want him dead as much as you do.”

Alec’s raised eyebrow showed how little he believed him, but Magnus’ eyes on were Clary. She just needed to convince him. But not with words or promises. With the truth. Clary let Magnus search in her face for whatever he was looking for. 

Sighing, Magnus turned back to Alec. “Regardless of the Demon’s intentions, this is our only chance to get close to the Angel. Your plan might work, especially if we can trap the Angel inside such a tiny space. This is our only shot.”

Clary gasped and looked at Alec. “Plan? What plan?”

Alec lowered his gun and shrugged, but only after Luke nodded. “Overwhelm him,” Alec said matter-of-factly. “The Angel can sense danger but he has to take action in order to stop it. If we synchronize enough attempts to kill him, he won’t be able to avoid all of them. We checkmate his ability to avoid the danger he sensed, not the power of sensing it.”

Hope burned inside Clary. They had everything they needed; the Angel’s location and how to defeat him. In the end, they wouldn’t need his weakness. Alec had thought of a way to neutralize the Angel’s Prime Invincibility without it. Jonathan had given them his location. Now, all they needed to do was go and kill him.

It was going to work. Clary smiled brightly, swallowing down her tears. “And if Jonathan starts thinking about other ways to kill him, that could be a distraction. As long as nobody decides to shoot, we can surround him without being noticed.”

Everyone turned to Jonathan, but he wasn’t nearly as exultant as Clary. “Whatever the plan is, we should do it quickly. There’s a new wave of Shadowhunters and Epics coming this way. The Institute is going to fall and everyone inside will be dead before nightfall.”

The silence that followed was broken by Jace’s whistle. “On that note, we’d better get going.”

\---

Not everyone went to the small, inconspicuous apartment. It would be too crowded and only serve to increase the risk of the Reckoners shooting each other when it came time. So, first, Magnus portaled most of the team to scout around the apartment. Maia and Jace joined Alec as snipers, each of them positioned in ways they had a clear access to the living room. Luke stayed with Simon in their ever-present van, though he too had a gun and a view to the windows. 

Initially, only Magnus and Jonathan would go in the apartment. Two powerful Epics - one of them a High Epic - were the only ones that might have a chance to escape the ambush alive if anything went wrong. Clary had resigned herself to that predicament, but when Jonathan demanded that she go with him, Clary joined her voice to his. 

She just didn’t expect Izzy to declare she was coming with. “I’m not letting you into the Angel’s lair without me,” Izzy said, her voice leaving no place for discussions. “We either do this together or you don’t do this at all.”

Clary didn’t answer her. Instead, she kissed Izzy full on the lips.

When they parted away, Clary had a new fire inside her. It matched the fire in Izzy’s dark, beautiful eyes. A fire that made everything seem possible. Even killing the most powerful Epic in the world.

Unfortunately, that fire died down as Clary was about to walk into Magnus’ portal. One step and she’d be back to her childhood house. Where her mother had been murdered, where her life had fallen apart. One step and she’d be facing the Angel. She’d be facing her father.

A hand held hers and Clary look up to see Izzy smiling confidently at her. “You can do this.”

Nodding, Clary laced their fingers together. She looked at Magnus and Jonathan, both of them ready to go. The portal in front of them twirled in the air, impossible to exist but, yet, still there. Clary breathed out. “Let’s do this.” 

Magnus nodded and touched the communicator on his ear. “We’re coming in.”

And, with that, the four of them walked through the portal.  
When Clary walked out, it felt like traveling back in time. She was standing in her living room exactly as it was when she was a girl. The only difference is that it looked smaller, a distortion she attributed to her childhood memories. Other than that, Clary recognized the mobile, the cabinets on the walls that she drew on with crayons. Her father had been angry about it, but not her mother. There still was a scratch on the wood floor that Jonathan had made playing with one of his toys. 

Even the pictures on the wall were the same. They showed Clary’s family, or what it used to be. Her parents’ wedding. Jocelyn with baby Jonathan. Valentine kissing Jocelyn’s swollen belly. The entire family together, Clary still a baby in her mother arms while Jonathan, balancing over his toes, tried to take a look at his little sister. Clary smiled when she saw a picture of Jonathan teaching her to walk.

But, most of all, the pictures showed Jocelyn. As a teenager in the high school where she met Valentine. On their graduation day, dressed in robes and smiling. Jocelyn among flowers, dressed in smudged clothes as she painted, laughing while holding a cup of tea.

Clary clenched her teeth. She let go of Izzy’s hand and pulled all the pictures down. Valentine didn’t deserve to see Jocelyn like that, happy and alive.

“We’re in, but no signs of the Angel,” Magnus informed the others. He looked at Jonathan as if asking what was going on. When he received just a shrug as an answer, Magnus rolled his eyes. “Stay on your feet.”

“Be careful,” Alec said. “There’s movement inside. You’re not alone.”

Clary thought she would be afraid to hear the Angel was so close. No matter how much she hated him, Valentine still terrified her. He was too powerful, too evil. A part of Clary knew well that she would never be enough to kill him, not by herself. She was only human while he was… He was a High Epic.

And, yet, Clary didn’t feel afraid at all. She only felt sad.

Izzy looked around. “We need to lure him here.”

Without hesitation, Clary turned to the dark hallway that led into the house. “Father,” she called loudly, her voice impressively commanding even to Clary’s ears.

She didn’t know if she expected it to work or not. Still, Clary held her breath when a man showed up at the end of the hallway cloaked by shadows. She heard Izzy’s gasp and then saw the red energy form around Magnus’ hands. 

“He’s here,” Jonathan whispered but the room was so silent, he might have yelled it. 

The Angel walked up to the end of the hallway but didn’t join them in the living room. He didn’t have to. Under the red light of Magnus’ power, Valentine Morgenstern looked like a monster already. Bald with plain features, he would’ve looked like any middle-aged man if it wasn’t for his eyes. Cold and impossibly smart, those were not the eyes of a human. 

When he smiled, his eyes didn’t light up. They stayed void of any trace of warmth, shining with calculating judgment. “Clarissa. It is so good to see you.”

\---

Once again, Clary felt no fear. “I wish I could say the same.”

Valentine snorted. “Feisty, like your mother. Did you come here to try to kill me too?”

“No.” Clary clung to the pictures of Jocelyn in her arms. “I’m not here to try.” 

Nodding, Valentine sighed. He took another step closer and stopped by the window, his hands clasped behind his back. It didn’t matter that his daughter had come to kill him. That his son had betrayed him. That the Reckoners were there, that the Prince of Hell was ready to attack. The Angel didn’t seem to have a care in the world. 

Not even when he took a step back just a second before a bullet hit the window frame, right where his face was moments before. Clary frowned. That wasn’t the plan. They were supposed to shoot at the same time. Had someone jumped the gun?

“Who shot that? You weren’t supposed to aim until my signal.” Luke’s voice came through the earbud. Clary tensed as she heard the urgency in his tone. 

Valentine looked back at them. “How unfortunate. I hoped we could put this foolishness past us. I wish I’d known you were alive sooner, Clarissa. It was harsh of me to wish you dead.”

“Harsh?” Clary sneered. 

Jace answered Luke first. “Not me. I’m on the west.”

“Harsh, but not unwise.” Valentine sighed, almost as if he was disappointed. “After all, you grew up to oppose me as your mother did. I can’t have that.”

“It wasn’t me either,” Maia said next. “What’s going on in there?!”

Clary felt her heart begin to thumb against her chest. She itched to point her guns at Valentine, to shoot him down before he could say another word. But he was still too far away, not quite in the position they needed him to be. Just a few more steps, just two more. 

“That wasn’t one of the windows we’re covering,” Alec said. “It wasn’t one of us.”

Wait. What?

Valentine shook his head. “I’d keep you alive, Clarissa. But I already have one child who wants me dead. I don’t need another. Especially not one that has no use to me.” He shrugged. “It’s not personal.”

Whatever the Angel was about to do, the Prince of Hell denied it. Magnus was done listening to the father-daughter reunion or waiting for the right moment to move. He blasted the Angel full on the chest, no questions asked.

And he hit. Magnus’ blast thrust the Angel into the air, making him fall on his back. The earbuds exploded with the rest of the Reckoners asking what was going on, but Clary could barely hear them. She was too busy watching the motionless body of her father. 

Was he… dead?

Magnus touched his earbud again. “The Angel is down. I’m going to check for a pulse.”

Nobody spoke after that, too stunned to know what to say. Clary had only heard stories about the power of the Prince of Hell and she had witnessed such power used against regular people, but never against another Epic. The hallway was narrow, but Valentine hadn’t even tried to deflect the attack. Could Magnus be so strong that his attack overpowered Valentine’s Danger Sense? Or was it just unavoidable, like Alec theorized could put in check the Angel’s Prime Invincibility? 

Kneeling beside Valentine, Magnus sunk two fingers on his neck. Clary breathed through her mouth, her own heart beating fast. For the first time, fear started to creep in. Clary hugged her mother’s pictures closer, almost too tightly. Izzy held her gun high and pointing at the Angel. 

But she was not fast and neither was Magnus. Clary saw Magnus’ expression turning from blank to a frown to surprise as Valentine moved and grabbed him by the wrist. Izzy took a shot, but this time Valentine was ready for her. He pulled Magnus to shield himself and the bullet got buried in Magnus’ arm. 

Magnus’ painful grunt died out with a strangled gasp, though. He grew pale and his body shook violently. Magnus tried to get away from the Angel’s grip, but it was in vain. Valentine held him in an iron clamp. 

“Let him go!” Clary yelled and threw the pictures on the floor. 

She was about to run to Magnus but Jonathan moved first. He grabbed her, pulling her from the ground. Clary kicked and struggled, but she was too weak. Suddenly, fear overpowered her, flooding Clary with all the images and worries she didn’t have when they arrived at the apartment. 

In a short moment of clarity, Clary realized why she had been so fearless. Jonathan had been soothing it away. Making her feel more confident than she should’ve been. That had made Clary reckless. It probably made Magnus reckless too. Enough that it pushed him to attack before the right time. It was all a plan. The Angel’s plan. 

Magnus fell to the ground and the sound spurred Clary into action. She kicked Jonathan between his legs and plunged to the ground. Izzy was shooting again as the Angel rose to his feet and Luke was yelling orders while Alec called for Magnus, his voice broken in despair. Clary could barely hear her own thoughts but suddenly everything went quiet. She looked at her father and found out why. 

The Angel had raised his hand and opened a portal in the middle of the living room. 

“He stole Magnus’ power!” Simon gasped through the communicator. 

Clary looked at her brother and saw that Jonathan looked away, disgust plain on his face. The Angel seemed to notice it too but he made no comments. It seemed to be a common occurrence. “Get rid of the Reckoner girl.”

Guilt flashed on Jonathan’s face, but he obeyed. Before anyone could react, Jonathan was on Izzy. He grabbed her gun and knocked her on the head with it, a sharp hit that echoed around the room. Non-lethal, but enough to take her out for a couple of hours. Izzy fell to the ground before Clary could remember how to breathe.

The Angel didn’t seem happy about that, but he shrugged and brought a hand to his ear, where Clary realized he had a communicator device. “Take down the others. Spare the leader. I want him alive.”

For a moment, Clary didn’t understand what was going on, but then she heard it. Gunshots coming from all around and from inside her ear. Maia cursed and Jace called “Shadowhunters!” but it was Simon’s quiet and weak gasp that filled Clary with terror. 

“Please! Spare them!” She begged, tears forming in her eyes. “I’m the reason they are here. I convinced them to come after you. Kill me but let them live.”

There was no compassion in the Angel’s eyes when he regarded Clary. “What is it with my children and thinking they sway any power over me? Your brother hides you from me and then begs for your life. You beg for the lives of even worthless beings. No, Clarissa. You are alive on borrowed time. I might allow you to live a little longer - if you behave. But make no mistake, your life is mine.”

The paralyzing fear that followed was not created by Jonathan. Clary wished it was. Maybe then she would’ve been able to push it aside. But what she felt was real, stronger than her hatred, overwhelming in every sense. They have lost. Maia and Jace were under attack. Simon would be dead once the shadowhunters got to Luke. There had been no word from Alec, Magnus was still down, and Izzy was unconscious. 

Once again, Clary was alone in her own home with two monsters. 

But then, Alec’s voice sounded came from the communicator. “He talks too much.” Clary felt her eyes widen, but Alec kept going. “Don’t react, Fray. They have me surrounded, but they think I’m dead.” Alec took a deep breath. “It’s time to improvise.”

Clary wasn’t able to refrain anymore. In the face of it all, she chuckled. Valentine and Jonathan both looked at her with surprise, but Clary ignored them. Back in the hallway, Magnus started to wake up as if Alec’s voice had brought him back. The bullet in his shoulder fell to the ground and his skin began to heal. He still had some of his powers.

“You hate it when I improvise,” Clary said calmly. 

“Well, I hate dying more.” Alec sighed. “Just do better than you did at the Seelie Court.”

The Seelie Court. That had worked, though not the way Clary wanted. It brought Jonathan to her but only because the Angel wanted him to go. Even her brother was afraid of him, too afraid of the man he hated to defy his orders.

Clary frowned, remembering what the Seelie Queen had said. “Defiance will lead you to your end, Angelborn,” Clary whispered, finally realizing what it meant. Not a threat but the answer to Clary’s questions.

What is the Angel’s weakness?

“My life does _not_ belong to you. Neither does Jonathan’s.” Clary said, but this time she addressed the Angel. Her tears were gone and she looked to the pictures of her mother on the floor. When she met her father’s eyes, Clary saw worry in his cold eyes. “Or mom’s. You killed her but you never controlled her. I might be afraid of you, but that doesn’t mean I have to obey you.”

The portal in the middle of the room faltered. Nobody moved or said anything, but it was clear enough that there was no mistaking it. The Angel’s grasp over his powers was breaking. Which meant he could be killed.

Valentine’s face twisted in anger. He looked at his son. “Kill her!”

But Jonathan didn’t move. He stared at the portal and how the tunnel of air seemed to slowly blow away until it was nothing but a breeze. Behind Valentine, Magnus got to his feet. There was nothing breezy about the ball of red energy forming between his hands.

Clary took a step forward. “This is the end of your reign of terror. You can’t control us anymore. It doesn’t matter how many Epics you’ve stolen from, how many people you force to work for you, or how many more you force into poverty. You’re done for.” Clary smirked. “It’s over, Dad. It’s time for another Epic to take over. A good one.”

Magnus didn’t give the Angel enough time to react. He blasted him again, but this time the hit took over the Angel’s entire body. Energy turned into flames and Valentine burned to death as his children watched. 

Neither shed a tear for him.

\---

A month after the Angel’s death, New York was finally finding some resemblance of order. Most Epics had left the city, though some had pledged their allegiance to the Prince of Hell. Magnus had accepted their service but refused to take over the city. It should be a human in charge. So, Magnus had turned to Luke. 

But the leader of the Reckoners chose to command the Shadowhunters and keep the peace. “I am no politician,” he’d said. But he was a commander. The population was still afraid of the shadowhunters and Luke used their presence on the streets to squash troublemakers trying to seize power in uncertain times. 

Changes were being slowly introduced but, for the time being, Luke made use of the shadowhunters as they were. Maia and Jace had remained with him, each of them becoming the heads of the new shadowhunter army. Clary didn’t understand how they could care for the same people that had almost killed them, but Jace had just shrugged and Maia snorted when she asked that. 

To lead the city, Luke brought in Maryse Lightwood, the mother of Alec, Jace, and Izzy. She presided over the group of people forming the government of New York, a blend of people from all boroughs. If the rumors could be believed, she would be elected Mayor come the voting in two months, with Alec by her side. The only reason Alec himself wasn’t a candidate was because of his age, but everyone knew it would be a matter of time before he was running the city.

In the end, the Reckoners proved to be more than just assassins. They were protectors. New York would be led by Alec, protected by Luke, and overseen by Magnus. 

As for Clary; she was happy in knowing the world was rid of a monster. There were still terrible Epics out there, but now they knew better than to run around unchecked. The Reckoners had taken one of them down and they could take more. The Age of the Epics was going to change.

But not all was good. The day after Clary offered Jonathan to live with her, he disappeared. All he left behind for Clary was a note saying that he needed to kill his own demon and the lock of her hair. Clary was truly alone now. No father, no mother, and no brother. She had wanted to go after Jonathan, but Izzy convinced her there was no point to it. 

“Jonathan could look like anyone,” Izzy said when Clary and she were getting ready for bed. “You’d never find him if he doesn’t want to be found. Give Jonathan time and he’ll come back when he’s ready.”

The advice was wise but it didn’t make it hurt less. Still, Izzy’s presence made everything better. Clary had seen Alec and Magnus together and wondered how it was to feel for someone what they felt for each other. With Izzy, she thought she was getting an idea. In the month they’ve been laying low, Clary had known what peace really meant. It was not the absence of war, but the awareness of safety.

Izzy had taught her that.

It was blessing, but it was also a curse. Clary didn’t know how to tell Izzy that the life they were living couldn’t last. Luke hadn’t said anything, but it was just a matter of time before he kicked Clary out of the Reckoners. The Angel was dead and Luke had been crystal clear about what would happen next. Clary had attributed his silence on all the work Luke had been doing for the city, but soon enough, he’d make time to protect his team. 

Only, when that conversation came, it went differently than Clary expected. She had been working on a new painting of Izzy, one that she intended to give to her for her birthday. Simon was there with her, his arm still bandaged. He had been shot during the attack on the Angel, but was otherwise unharmed. Not that Simon cared much for his own well-being. He had been working closely with Magnus in recognizing and analyzing all the Epics under Magnus’ command, making sure their crimes were registered even when they weren’t willing to admit to all of them. Good thing Magnus accompanied Simon on those visits. 

“That’s a beautiful portrait,” Luke said once he walked into the room. 

“I have a beautiful model,” Clary said quietly. Simon realized something serious was about to happen and excused himself. Clary didn’t blame him, though she wished he didn’t. She didn’t want to tell him that she was leaving the group. That would break her heart all over again.

But Luke didn’t immediately say anything. He sat down on the bench where Simon had been sitting. Luke seemed tired but not wary. His shoulders were no longer tense and his eyes didn’t look for daggers in the shadows. He still looked worried, but not for anyone’s life. Instead, he worried about the future and all the possibilities.

Clary clenched her teeth. “If you’re going to kick me out, just do it.”

Luke stared at her for a moment that lasted for eternity. “I’m not.” The words took a while to make sense but even when they did, Clary just stared blankly at him. Luke snorted. “You’re impulsive and reckless, but you’re also resourceful and smart, Kiddo. More importantly, you were willing to give your life for ours. You’ll grow out of your recklessness in time. Izzy did and that girl was the first to throw a punch in a fight. You’re part of the family, Clary. If you want to stay, you’re welcome to.”

Part of the family. So maybe Clary wasn’t alone after all. She had the Reckoners. She had Jace and his unshaken confidence, Maia and her no-nonsense attitude, Alec and his constant eye-rolls. She also had Magnus and his illuminating presence, Simon and his kindness, Luke and his guidance. And Izzy. All that Izzy was and all that they could be together.

“I do,” Clary said, barely able to contain her tears. “I want to stay with you guys.”

Luke smiled. “Welcome to the Reckoners, Clary Fray.”

\---

**Autumn, 2019**

Alec pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed shut. He still had a headache from the last meeting with the representatives of each borough in the city. Each one wanted something different, but nobody was willing to compromise. Alec felt more and more like an underprepared therapist instead of the vice-Mayor. He understood now why his mother delegated these to him every time.

But, still, the overwhelming amount of opinions was better than having no say at all. It had taken months after the Angel’s Fall for people to start speaking their minds, unafraid of what Epics may think. It had taken more than that for Magnus to stop the Epics from lashing back when people did so. 

Luke said it was all a process. In time, New York would once again be a city where people were free to chase their dreams and live their lives. But the process was much too slow for Alec’s taste. Worse, it was much too complicated. More and more, Alec found himself longing for the days where solving a problem meant putting a bullet in someone’s head.

The Reckoners didn’t kill anymore, though. Now, they built. A new city, a new government, a new way of life. People living together, those with and without powers. It was what Alec wanted from the moment he and Magnus fell in love and chose to put aside their differences. 

And it was because of Magnus that Alec would endure whatever maddening meetings he’d have to go through. Clary Fray had pushed them into taking the city and Alec was going to make it theirs. 

Winds blew inside Alec’s office and he didn’t have to open his eyes to know Magnus had just walked out of a portal. He did anyway. Alec loved to watch his boyfriend using his powers. Ever since Magnus had taken over the Epics of the city, he used his powers with more and more confidence. The darkness was still there - lurking at the edges, preying on Magnus’ temper - but it didn’t seem to affect him as much anymore.

Alec was very happy about that. He smiled and Magnus walked up to his desk and sat at the corner. “A spontaneous visit, Mr. Bane?” Alec asked with a smirk. 

Magnus smirked as well, the traces of seriousness vanishing from his face. Their positions in the Reckoners’ Government called for a sense of propriety when dealing with each other in public. However, they had found a certain amusement in keeping that farse in private from time to time. 

“Oh, Mr. Lightwood,” Magnus said with just a hint of a promise in his voice. He cocked his head to the side and examined the pile of paperwork on top of Alec’s desk. “I wish I’d come here just to rescue you from drowning in those. But, alas, my visit is not only personally motivated.”

The amusement was gone from Alec as fast as it came. “What’s wrong? Did that asshole Lorenzo challenge you again? I know Luke doesn’t want us exiling anyone, but we can talk him into making an exception.”

“No, Lorenzo Rey has been put in his place and stayed there.” Magnus smiled and the smugness of it reassured Alec. He had been present when Lorenzo Rey had issued a complaint against Magnus’ authority and dared Magnus to fight him. The challenge hadn’t lasted long but just thinking of that night made Alec angry. Magnus, less so now that it was resolved. “The problem isn’t one of my Epics, Alexander.”

One of his Epics. Magnus spoke of them as if they were his children. Alec supposed they were, in a way. Where the Epics of New York were afraid of the Angel, they respected the Prince of Hell. They didn’t refer to him as their boss or said they were on his payroll. Instead, they formed his Court of Hell and Magnus was their king. 

“If it’s not one of them, what is it?” Alec asked frowning.

Magnus took a deep breath. “Jonathan was spotted.” He pushed his lips together. “Not too far away, in fact. He attacked a restaurant. I portaled there and talked to the owners. It was him, there is no doubt.”

Alec swallowed hard. Izzy had told him how much Clary missed her brother. They had been able to dissuade Clary from going out of the city to search for him for a year, but that was before any information about Jonathan Morgenstern surfaced. There would be no stopping her now.

Sighing, Alec started the damage control. “Have you told Luke?” 

“Not yet. He’s grown found of the Angel Slayer.” Magnus smiled at Clary’s nickname, but it was a sad gesture. “I don’t want to take away his surrogate daughter. But I think she should know. He’s her family after all.”

“We’re her family,” Alec said automatically. “He sold her out to the Angel, he led us into a trap. He’s the Demon.”

Magnus was unimpressed, though. “And I’m the Prince of Hell. Where else does a demon fit if not in my Court?” When Alec had no answer, Magnus sighed. “Come on, Alexander. You know this is the right thing to do. We have to tell her and I’d rather we did it together.”

Alec wanted to argue. He wanted to dissuade Magnus, to point out that Clary would take Magnus and Izzy with her on that suicide mission. The city needed Magnus more than Clary did, Alec needed Magnus more than her. 

But all of those arguments were wrong. They were selfish and cowardly. The Epics might have a darkness to fight off, but so did the ordinary people. Alec had no magical weakness or amazing powers, but he had bad impulses and fears too. But just like Magnus, he couldn’t let those rule him. This was the only way they would become what Alec dreamed they’d be. Fair and true.

He sighed and nodded. “All right. We do this together.”

Magnus smiled and his eyes flashed with pride. “Always, my love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, the biggest thank you to my incredible beta, [j_writes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/j__writes/pseuds/j__writes). 
> 
> I can be found on [Tumblr](https://ketzwrites.tumblr.com/) and on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ketzwrites). 
> 
> Kudos, comments, and tweets are more than welcome!
> 
> Ketz

**Author's Note:**

> Biggest thank you to fellow Brandon Sanderson fan and amazing beta, [j_writes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/j__writes/pseuds/j__writes). 
> 
> I can be found on [Tumblr](https://ketzwrites.tumblr.com/) and on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ketzwrites). 
> 
> Kudos, comments, and tweets are more than welcome!
> 
> Ketz


End file.
